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Jacob made hmiself comfortable on a mossy rock. 



Little Red Schoolhouse 


BY 

/ 

EVELYN RAYMOND 


AUTHOR OF 


THE LITTLE LADY OF THE HORSE,” “THE MUSHROOM 
CAVE,” “A CAPE MAY DIAMOND,” ETC. 


Jllustrateli 

By victor a. SEARLES 


BOSTON 


! SEP 24 11),] 


ROBERTS BROTHERS 



« 


Copyright, 1897, 

By Roberts Brothers. 


^Entbersitg ^rcss: 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 


ALL THE LADS AND LASSIES, THE MISTRESSES 
AND MASTERS, OF 


OUR BLESSED COUNTRY SCHOOLS. 




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: ■ 







CONTENTS. 


Chapter Page 

I. The New Pupil 1 

II. Enters Philip 12 

III. A Ball of Burdock Burs 19 

IV. A Bond of Sympathy 28 

V. At the Close of the Day 40 

VI. An Independent Member of the Humane 

Society 50 

VII. After the Battle 59 

VIII. At the Old Sampson Homestead ... 72 

IX. Philip attends a Patient 84 

X. The Biter Bit 96 

XI. Daniel turns Coward 105 

XII. Exchanging Confidences 118 

XIII. Introducing Deacon Tewksbury . . . 130 

XIV. The Trustee’s Scheme 142 

XV. Accident or Intention? 155 

XVI. Not a Purse, but a Whistle . . . . 167 

XVII. The Moral before the Homily . . . 178 

XVIII. The Unspoken Sermon 190 

XIX. Troubles by the Way 202 


viii CONTENTS. 

Chapter Page 

XX. The Great Snowstorm 214 

XXI. To FOLLOW THE Crow’s Flight . . . 227 

XXII. A Work of Rescue 235 

XXIII. Jake Lane visits the School . . . 247 

XXIV. Pedagogue Pro Tem 259 

XXV. The Conversion of Simeon Beddecker 270 

XXVI. Mercy and Wrath 282 

XXVII. Under the Old Horse-Shed .... 293 

XXVIII. The Morning After 304 

XXIX. News and a Gift 315 

XXX. A Talk in the Night Pasture . . . 332 

XXXI. Another Notable Meeting .... 343 

XXXII. As THE Sun went Down 355 


THE 


LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


CHAPTER I. 


THE NEW PUPIL. 



HE schoolhouse stood at the crossing of the 


JL roads in the valley, — the wonderful val- 
ley, through which ran or leaped the madly 
merry Black River ; trailed the slow waters of 
its neighbor, the old canal ; and gleamed the 
yellow-brown thread of the plank turnpike. 

These three entrancing features of the valley 
had all one beginning and one end ; side by side 
they emerged from the wooded hills on the east, 
and, still side by side, they disappeared among 
them on the west. 

To the children, the road, the canal, and the 
river were a trio of comrades from the world 
beyond those green imprisoning walls, and each 
had a tale to tell of it. 

Sometimes they liked the river best. This 


1 


2 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


was in the spring, when it rose to the top of 
its banks and bore on its breast the long, un- 
ending chain of logs, sent by the woodlanders 
above to the mills below. 

But as the season advanced and the lazy boats 
went sauntering along the canal — ah! then 
was delight ! For the good-natured captains gave 
many a child a sail,” from one end of the val- 
ley to the other ; that is, from the lock to the 
bridge. Beyond these limits even the most 
adventurous youngster dared not go. 

The river and the canal were surely enough 
without another ; yet there still was left the 
turnpike, and the last’s the best of all the 
game.” Summer or winter, freshet or drouth, 
nothing affected the turnpike, over which rattled 
or jingled the mail coach from the Unknown to 
the Unknown, — as Dominie Davidson explained, 

from Carthage to Polinquet ; ” which was all 
the same to the listeningr children. 

The up coach ” had four goodly horses of 
gray ; the down,” two white and two black, 
and each driver boasted his team ” was better 
than his rival’s. This question was a never- 
settled, always-discussed one at recess, about 
which time, on alternate days, a stage passed by 
the schoolhouse, heralded by a blast on a musical 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


3 


horn, which echoed and re-echoed among the 
encircling hills in tones of bewildering gradation 
and sweetness. 

Often the girl children followed those echoes 
into the hills, — those great green peaks of delight, 
where they never caught the echo, but where 
they found heaps upon heaps of flowers ; dainty 
spring beauties, merry wake -robins, fragrant 
arbutus, anemones, bloodroots, columbines — 
why, the half could never be told of the treasures 
they found in those forests ! 

Along the turnpike and the wandering roads 
which crossed it, on a bright September morn- 
ing, came into this pleasant valley the children 
of that school and of this story. 

By twos and threes, or singly : each in freshly 
starched sunbonnet or blouse, and each with some 
old-fashioned text-books under arm, — even the 
four-year-olds had gay primers or slates, — for it 
was the first day of school,’' and they were 
thither bound. 

There was the excitement of a fresh experi- 
ence in the very air. Even Dominie Davidson, 
already waiting in the open doorway, had a new, 
let’s-begin-all-over-again sort of a look on his 
kind face, and his dickey was starched as stiff as 
the girls’ bonnets. 


4 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


But there was no starch in his smile^ as he 
extended his hands to grasp those of the first- 
comers, and his deep voice rang out without a 
trace of that sternness which sometimes made it 
so unpleasant to their ears. 

‘‘Well, well! This is good — better — best! 
Helen, of course ; Matilda and Kate ; I counted 
on you three to be prompt. What a morning it 
is to begin a new year of work ! Ah ! there they 
come ! All along the roads ! Why, at this 
rate, we shall have to get out the extra desks.” 

“ Say, Master, can I sit in the back seat by the 
winder ? The one where Betty Wilkins sat 
on last ? ” 

“ Correct your sentence, Matilda, and I ’ll 
answer you.” 

“ I did n’t know school had beginned,” pouted 
the beauty of the school, tossing her yellow 
braids contemptuously, and depositing her books 
with a bang upon the desk she coveted. 

Then in came the lads with a rush, full of the 
vigor and sparkle of the day, and there was no 
further opportunity for exchange of remarks 
between the Dominie and his aggrieved pupil. 

Each freshly arrived scholar greeted his master 
with the civility that was commonly perfunctory, 
but performed that morning with an earnestness 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


5 


which proved it genuine; then the torn hats 
and tidy bonnets were hung on the peg-rows in 
the entry,” the Dominie stepped to his desk, 
tapped his bell, and the session had begun. 

Attention ! We will open our exercises by the 
reading of the Word. Proverbs, fourth, seventh. 
^ Wisdom is the principal thing ; therefore get 
wisdom ; and — ’ Silence, in the middle row ! 
— ^ with all thy getting get understanding.’ 

There, my children. I can add nothing to 
that. It is your message directly — Jimmy 
Bolton ! Take that gum out of your mouth. 
Bring it here. Throw it — It is n’t gum ? 
Well, what is it ? ” 

Root licorice.” 

Have you a cold ? ” 

No.” 

What ? ” 

No, SIR ! ” 

Very well. You don’t come to school to 
chew roots nor set your small brother a bad ex- 
ample. Let us pray.” 

When the brief prayer was reverently finished, 
for this loyal old Bible student used none but the 
Lord’s own perfect prayer, Helen Adair went to 
the wheezy little melodeon in the corner and 
started the tune for the hymn. It was neither 


6 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


very cheerful nor appropriate, but nobody noticed 
that, not even Dominie Davidson. It was music, 
and so sufficient to express their happiness. 

Then followed another tap on the bell, books 
and slates were rattled about, and study began, 
with that eagerness which announced it a wel- 
come novelty after weeks of vacation idleness. 

Well pleased. Dominie Davidson looked over 
liis room full of young people, as he wrote their 
names on the new roll. He was getting an old 
man. Younger educators were reminding him 
of that and trying to crowd him out, to usurp 
his place for themselves. 

“ But I ’m here on my throne yet, and good 
for a dozen years to come, please God ! I ’m as 
strong for work as ever I was in my life. Hmm. 
Give up ! Leave the valley school ! No. No. 
That would be more than I could bear, I think, 
just yet. Just yet.” 

He squared, or tried to square, his stooped 
shoulders, passed his thin hand over his head, 
adjusted his collar and stock, put on his strong- 
est glasses, and said : — 

Ahem.” 

He was about to call the first class in spell- 
ing. The class had anticipated this and had 
already risen to go forward to the recitation bench. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 7 

when there came the sound of approaching feet 
along the entry floor, — heavy feet, middle-aged 
feet ; that had no rightful place among those 
younger ones, now so impatiently tapping the 
schoolroom boards because of this delay. 

All glances immediately turned toward the 
doorway, through which there entered a rough, 
unkempt man whom few recognized. He wore 
the long striped smock-frock of a laborer, and the 
axe slung over his shoulder proclaimed him a 
wood-cutter. His clothing had an odor of bad 
whiskey, tobacco smoke, and pine needles com- 
bined, and this odor instantly permeated the 
entire room. 

He had his hand upon the shoulder of a tall 
lad, whom he pushed before him into the open 
space near the teacher’s desk, where he paused 
and remarked : — 

I ’m Abel Sharp. I live over the mounting. 
I ’ve brung ye Dan’l, this here boy, to be teached 
by ye. I ’ve heern ’bout ye, an’ how ’s ye was a 
povverful hand to jam I’arnin’ into youngsters’ 
heads. Dan’l, he’s smart — so they say. But 
he ain’t good fer ary thing, ’ithouten it may be 
readin’ an’ so on. I ’ve gin up tryin’ to make 
anything decent out of him. He ’s ben turned 
out o’ every school he ’s tackled yet, an’ I ’low 


8 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


he ’ll be turned out o’ thisn. Howsomever, here 
he is, an’ now do your dernedest with him. 
What ’s the taxes ? ” 

Sir ? I do not understand.” 

Sho ! What ’s to pay ? Fer the teachin’ ? ’’ 
Do you belong to this district ? ” 

“ No. To t’other. Th’ eastern.” 

You ’ll have to settle that with the trustees 
or the board. 

“ All right. An’ you settle him. Don’t ye let 
him give ye no sass. If he do, jest let me know. 
I ’m Abel Sharp. Good mornin’.” 

■ The woodlander stomped out, leaving the un- 
fortunate Daniel standing awkwardly in the mid- 
dle of the floor, feeling through all his long body 
the pin-pricks of those many watching eyes, and 
seeking refuge in sullenness for the misery which 
possessed him. 

Even before Dominie Davidson recovered from 
his surprise sufliciently to speak to this undesira- 
ble new pupil, there was a gentle stir among the 
girls on the back row, and a slender little maid 
stole to the stranger’s side. She was blushing 
furiously at her own boldness, yet her words were 
resolute with pitying kindness : — 

“ Oh ! I know you, Daniel ! You ’re the boy 
who brought that beautiful oriole’s nest to my 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


9 


mother last winter. Here is a book. We’re 
just going to spell that line. Over yonder is 
where the big boys sit. Shall he go there, Mas- 
ter, or where ? ” 

Yes. Of course. I ’ll find him a seat. Un- 
less — Daniel, can you spell ? ” 

Daniel flushed even a deeper red, twirled his 
old hat vigorously, plucked at his blue jean over- 
alls, grinned, shot a swift glance toward Helen, 
and finally evolved : Huh ! ” 

The master frowned. 

Take Helen’s book, lad, and thank her for it. 
Then look over that page. If you can spell words 
as hard as those, stand up among the boys and 
try. As a treat, children, you may choose sides 
and spell each other down.” 

“We never do that till a Friday!” objected 
one youth who had been diligently counting down 
the line of words on the designated page, and 
studying those which should be given to himself. 

“ Never mind 1 Please ! ” cried another. 

“ We do it whenever I say so 1 ” thundered the 
autocrat of the schoolroom. “Girls, choose your 
leader.” 

“ Helen Adair ! Helen, of course.” 

The favorite sped to her position. 

“ Boys, the same.” 


10 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

There was a momentary silence, during which 
it was observed, for the first time, that he who 
commonly led on the lads’ side was not there. 

Choose. Time ’s passing.” 

Why — Phil Sampson, only he is n’t here.” 

James Bolton, then.” 

Oh ! shucks ! ” said 'a voice somewhere. 

What ’s that ? ” demanded the Dominie. 

^^He ain’t no good.” 

“ Neither are you — at grammar. James Bol- 
ton, take your place. Opposite Helen. Now 
begin. Helen has first choice.” . 

Matilda Brown.” 

She can’t spell — butter ! ” came a sibilant 
whisper from another malcontent, which the mas- 
ter saw fit to ignore. 

After that the choosing w^ent on with rapidity, 
the best spellers in the school being eagerly se- 
lected by the leaders, till all the first class were 
in one or other of the two lines, and the new- 
comer, Daniel, at the bottom of that on the boys’ 
side. 

Heads up. Shoulders back. Hands folded 
behind you. Toe the mark. Luther Beans ! 
you ’re three inches over the crack. Better. 
At-ten-tion ! 

With uplifted ruler in one hand and a goodly 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


11 


sized pin in the other, Dominie Davidson waited 
for some seconds, during which the intent children 
literally held their breaths. When the silence 
was absolute he let the pin drop, and a distinctly 
audible sound announced the fact. 

Into this profound stillness, he hurled upon their 
startled ears the unexpected word : — 

^ Parallel ogrammical.’ ” 

Every scholar caught his breath with a gasp. 
Such a test as that had never been given in the 
valley school. Helen Adair valiantly tried to 
compass that dreadful bit of her native language, 
but failed. Most of the class flunked outright, 
yet the mighty word travelled on and on till it 
reached the foot of the lads’ line and — Daniel. 

Next ! ” said the Dominie, as the merest mat- 
ter of form. 

P-a-r, par, a-1, al, paral, 1-e-l, lei, parallel, o-, 
panillelo, g-r-a-m, gram, parallelogram, m-i-c, mic, 
parallelogrammic, a-1, al ; parallelogrammical.” 

The silence that succeeded this bomb-burst of 
learning was far more profound than that which 
had preceded the pin-fall. 



CHAPTER II. 


ENTERS PHILIP, 


HE master rallied from his amazement. An 



1 electric thrill of delight ran through his 
veins. Here was a foeman worthy of his steel. 

Daniel Sharp, go to the head. Consider your- 
self leader of the boys’ side. Atten-tion ! Helen : 

‘ Parallelopipedon.’ ” 

Of course she missed it, with two r’s and 
four I’s. 

Daniel ! ” 

At one bound the lad rose to the height de- 
manded of him. He became transformed. Here 
was his chance, the first chance of his hungry, 
ambitious soul. He gave back kindling glance 
for kindling ^glance. One might almost have 
seen the spiritual lightning shoot between the 
Dominie’s eyes and his own. Erect, alert, self- 
confident he stood, and the watching children 
marvelled. 

^ Zoogeographicah’ ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


13 


The word aimed itself at the shrinking Helen 
but hit Daniel. It did not get beyond him. He 
shot it back to the master, unbroken. 

Irresistibility ! ” 

' The boys’ leader glanced across at the girls’. 
She stood mute, trembling, with downcast lids 
and burning cheek. 

Again he returned the word, intact. 

Dominie Davidson looked over his spectacles, 
then under them, each time scanning curiously 
this unique specimen of youthful erudition. With 
a swing of his revolving chair he dragged his 
heavy dictionary toward him and turned its 
leaves rapidly, selecting polysyllables, monosylla- 
bles, — anything, everything puzzling, which his 
random glances hit upon. 

Not one proved puzzling to the new pupil. 

The master’s swivel chair came back to its 
normal poise and he turned toward Helen with 
that unconscious appeal for her sympathy which 
had become habitual to him. To his fresh aston- 
ishment he saw her upon the verge of tears. 

Instantly the old man’s feelings underwent a 
change. He loved her fondly, and it was not for 
this unknown, arrogant stripling to cast discredit 
on her attainments, who, until now, had been the 
honor pupil of the school. 


14 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Sometimes it is easier to spell difficult words 
than simple ones. One takes infinitely more care 
in the matter. We will return to the regular 
lesson. Helen, spell ^ Ingenuous.’ ” 

She shot him a grateful glance and obeyed him. 
On ground which she knew she was not easily 
shaken. Yet, finally, after a long, honorable trial, 
she failed, and Daniel was again victor. 

“ Spell ^ Separate.’ ” 

It was the boy’s turn, and he missed it. This 
was now more surprising than that he should 
have performed his first wonders ; and after that 
he missed frequently. All the others gave up the 
contest to these two, and when it was over, when 
the clock hands pointed to long past the time a 
second recitation was due, Helen returned to her 
seat in the back row with the greatest number of 
correctly spelled words to her credit. 

Before this, while the competition was at its 
height, there had entered the room another lad, 
who took his old place at a back-row desk, almost 
unobserved. This was a surprise to him. He 
had not counted upon such an easy slip over his 
tardiness, nor doubted that the master’s salutation 
to him would be the familiar — 

Well, Philip ? late as usual. Your excuse, 
please.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


15 


But he recognized that a strange element had 
come into the valley school, and he became 
presently the most profoundly interested person 
there. 

Goodness ! I never heard a fellow rattle off 
hard words like that ! What is he ? He looks 
like a fool, but I bet he 'd down the Dominie, if it 
was an even try ! 

And it was the earnest stare of this late comer 
which greeted Daniel as, directed by the master, 
he walked down the aisle between the desks to 
the distant one assigned him. 

The young woodlander returned the stare with 
interest. To his inexperience, fresh from the 
forest, all these valley children seemed part of 
a different, a superior world to that in which 
his fifteen years of life had been passed. Helen, 
indeed, in her dainty sprigged muslin and little 
black silk apron, had suggested to him one of 
those goddesses ” about which he had read in 
that old book the tourist had given him. 

But Helen's loveliness faded into nothingness 
before the charm of Philip Sampson’s handsome, 
debonair face, his fine, almost foreign-looking 
apparel, the frank friendliness of his smiling dark 
eyes. 

I say, fellow, you ’re a brick ! Who are you ? 


16 THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 

Where ’d you come from ? ” demanded this bril- 
liant apparition. 

Daniel’s self-poise forsook him. He dropped 
back into the sheepishness of his first appearance, 
and replied, with a nasal twang : — 

I come from t’other side the mounting, — Big 
Sandy deestrick ; ” and saying this, slunk into 
his seat as if he were a culprit. 

Phil was surprised. From the stranger’s scho- 
lastic exhibition he had expected a different man- 
ner of speech ; but he was well bred, and, when 
he respected anybody, equally careful not to 
wound that person’s feelings. Fie promptly 
veiled his astonishment in the cordial declaration : 

Well, Big Sandy ’s the loser, then ! I reckon 
you ’ll give us valley fellows a shake-up in our 
wits. Do you like school ? ” 

‘^Ya-as. When I’m letten to go. ’T ain’t 
often. Wouldn’t a ben now if ’t had n’t a ben 
fer Ma. Swidgey corum ! What ’s — that ? ” 
That ’s the stage horn, — the ‘up stage ’ from 
Polinquet, and — recess ! ” 

Where ye goin’ ? ” 

To see the stage go by, of course. Come on.” 

With a hand on a desk, either side the harrow 
aisle, Philip went swinging toward the door. 
Every movement he made was graceful, every 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 17 

line of his perfect body was beautiful, from the 
crown of his golden head to the soles of his 
shapely feet. 

Daniel watched him, wonderingly. Then he 
started to follow, but the voice of the master 
halted him and he paused, reluctantly. 

Come here, lad.’' 

“ I was a-goin’ out — with that new feller.” 

Another time. I ’d like to hear where you 
learned to spell like that.” 

Oh ! mostly by myself,” indifferently. 

By yourself ! It seems incredible.” 

« Hey?” 

“ I mean, it ’s remarkable.” 

I went to school when I could. ’T wan’t 
often I was let. Mostly I was a-choppin*. Can 
I go now ? ” 

Those words — few of them are in any spell- 
ing book I 've seen. What one did you use ? ” 

Before Philip Sampson had come Daniel would 
have been proud beyond measure to talk thus 
with the master. He would have dilated eagerly 
upon his own attainments, his love of study, his 
determination to find out all there was in ary 
book he could fetch up ag’inst.” 

But Philip had come, and books had suddenly 
lost their interest. 


18 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


I used one o’ them kind. You see, the long- 
short on it was this way : One o’ them writin’ 
men, that makes the books their selves, come 
along our way and stopped a hull summer to our 
folks’. He was sick when he come, an’ he hired 
me ter go round with him, a-shootin’ an’ so on. 
He teached me a heap o’ things ; an’ when 
he went away he gin me his Dictionary, same 
as yourn, I reckon, an’ all his books what he ’d 
fetched into the woods fer comp’ny. He told 
me I could n’t do no better nor study out o’ 
the Dictionary mostly. I done it an’ kept at it, 
fer three winters. That ’s all how. Now can 
I go?” 

Yes, yes. Certainly. But it ’s exceedingly 
interesting. I will have another talk with you 
after school. Daniel Sharp, is it ? I am proud 
to write it on my roll book.” 

“It’s Daniel fast enough. But Ma, she mar- 
ried ag’in. My right name’s Starbuck. I’d 
ruther be called by it. I hate — Sharp 1 ” 

The ugly look which came over the lad’s coun- 
tenance startled the good Dominie. 

“ There, that will do for the present, Daniel. 
Join your mates. The stage must be very near. 
We ’ll all go out and give it a royal welcome.” 


CHAPTER III. 


A BALL OF BURDOCK BURS. 

T he stage had already drawn up at the 
corner, before the school playground. With 
a final, nicely modulated breath upon his horn, 
Jake Lane, the driver, tossed it down among the 
clustered youngsters, leaped from his own high 
perch, and mischievously flicked his long-lashed 
whip around the bare heels of a rosy urchin, though 
taking care to merely tickle, and not hurt them. 

This act proclaimed to the assembled children 
that Jake ’s in a good humor ! He ’ll let us have 
some fun ! ” 

They tested this conclusion immediately. 

With a scramble and rush they swarmed over 
the great gaudy vehicle, — upon the wheels, the 
boot, and up the little ladder to the top. 

Hello ! Who told you ye might do that ? 
Hey ? Well, I ’m glad school ’s on ag’in. Always 
seems sort o’ lonesome like, when Old Red ’s shut 
up. ‘T ain’t so long ago sence I used to come 


20 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


here myself, a boy like Lute Beans there, a-tryin’ 
to get some notion o’ learnin’ into my thick pate. 
Guess you ain’t forgot what a wooden-headed 
shaver I was them days, have you. Dominie ? ” 

Oh ! I remember well enough when you 
came to school, Jacob, but not so well about the 
‘ wooden head.’ As I recollect, you were about 
as smart as the average, my man.” 

Humph ! ” 

And you were always very good-natured, 
very kind to your mates. I remember that dis- 
tinctly,”. added the master, fearing he had in 
some degree fallen short of the tribute expected. 

Sho ! Better let it go ’t the first. Dominie I 
Might as well call a feller a fool as say he ’s a 
clever soul.” 

But the driver was in no wise offended, and, 
laughing at the neat turn he had given the con- 
versation, he faced about to the stage and drew 
out from beneath his own seat a parcel of books 
for the expectant teacher. 

Ah ! that ’s good. Though I hardly dared 
hope for them quite so promptly.” 

‘^Wouldn’t a ben, neither, if I hadn’t gone to 
the store an’ ponied ’em up. Polinquet folks are 
slower ’n molasses in the winter time. But I 
remembered how well I liked gettin’ new books 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 21 

when term opened, even if I never did get no 
further ’n the covers. Hey ? What you want, 
boy ? To sit in my place a minute ? Well — ” 

Mr. Lane slowly drew from his vest pocket a 
big silver watch, by which, as he claimed, he was 
accustomed to reg’late the sun,” and gazed 
fixedly at its open countenance. 

•^Well, I dunno but you may, fer jest five 
minutes. I ’m a little more ’n that to the good. 
I — Whoa, there ! You critter ! Stan’ still. 
Sh’d think you ’d be glad to rest, after tra veilin’ 
nigh on to thirty miles. Did you ever see a 
finer horse ’n that air front off one. Dominie ? 
See him now. He ’s as full o’ gimp an’ go as if 
he ’d jest ben let out o’ stable. Ain’t he a beauty, 
though ? Yet I dunno as he ’s ary mite better ’n 
his mate ; an’ as for them hind ones, they ’re 
young, an’ none too road wise yet, but — wait a 
spell. I say, jest wait a spell. That Sim Bed- 
decker’s old white pair o’ mares ain’t a show 
’longside this team. I — ” 

Every w^ord, every gesture of this wonderful 
person, who could drive four mettlesome horses 
as easy as little Rob Miller could drive his hobby 
horse, who came from the world beyond the 
hills, and treated its affairs as if they were of 
no more account than Farmer Beans’ haying, 


22 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


was watched and imitated by his admiring 
audience. 

When I ’m as big as Jake Lane I ’m going 
to buy me a watch just like that/’ observed Jim 
Bolton to his neighbor. 

Where you goin’ to get your money ? ” 

Earn it, of course.” 

How ?” 

Oh — somehow ! ” 

Pooh ! I know how I'm goin’ to earn mine, 
when I grow up.” 

‘‘ How ’s that, Joe Beans ? ” 

Be a stage driver, just like him.” 

Jacob Lane heard this remark. He was 
secretly flattered by it. He called himself a 
‘‘cranky old bach,” who was ^‘jest iool-silly 
over children.” He counted as the pleasantest 
episode of his long route this passing by the 
old schoolhouse, and he managed, commonly by 
rapid driving over some stretches of road and by 
cutting short his stops at insigniflcant hamlets, 
to make a bit of time for a pause and chat here. 

He had felt, but pretended not to feel, the coax- 
ing little twitch which small Rob Miller had been 
giving to his striped trousers, and he knew per- 
fectly well what the child was after, He waited 
till the little chubby face attained just the satis- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 23 

factory degree of impatience, and then he tried 
to affect indifference as he turned and swung the 
petitioner up — up — up, away up to the drivers 
seat ! 

Now, you baby ! There you are. Here ’s 
the reins ! Hold 'em tight ! Step to them 
horses’ heads, will you, som6 o’ you boys ? 
They ain’t so fond o’ standin’ an’ talkin’ as I be. 
Give him the whip, whoever ’s got it. Now — 
he ’s fixed. Allow me to make you ’quainted 
with the new stage-driver, Dominie ! ” 

As Jake Lane’s wit reached this felicitous height 
he waved his hand majestically toward the master, 
who bowed absently, his attention divided between 
the outside of the parcel he held and the evident 
restlessness of the horses. 

But the young folks received the nonsense with 
an admiring outburst of laughter, in which Jake 
joined heartily. Then his eye fell upon Daniel, 
standing aloof from his comrades, and recognized 
him as a stranger. 

Hello, lad ! What you a-holdin’ back for ? 
Don’t you like to see a good team of horses, when 
you get a chance ? Come on an’ take a look at 
’em. I ain’t used to havin’ none o’ old Bed’s 
boys an’ girls turn the cold shoulder to me, you 
know. Come along an’ get ’quainted.” 


24 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Thus adjured, Daniel sheepishly advanced, 
gaining courage as he observed that nobody paid 
especial attention to him, — save that Helen shot 
him a bright, friendly smile, and Luther Beans, 
having seen which way the cat jumped,’' moved 
aside and made room for the stranger close to the 
heads of the leaders of the team.” 

In other words, Philip Sampson had taken 
up ” the mountaineer, and Philip’s followers 
would now do the same. 

Nice team, ain’t it ?” remarked Luther. 
Daniel laid his hand on the curved neck of the 
nigh ” creature, and smoothed its velvety sur- 
face. Ya-as. But they ’re a-fidgetin’ power- 
ful. How long does he gen’ally stop here? Does 
he al’ays ? ” 

Course not. Depends on how fur ahead o’ 
time he is. It ’s most the end the route. They ’re 
gettin’ hungry an’ know they’re ’bout home. 
That ’s what ails ’em. I ’m goin’ to buy me a 
team just like ’em bime-by.” 

^‘Be you?” asked Daniel, greatly impressed. 
Luther might be the possessor of unlimited wealth, 
for all he then knew to the contrary. But — 
somebody ought to be bangin’ on to ’em tighter ’n 
they is. If they should start off, that little feller 
up there could n’t hold ’em no more ’n a fly.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 25 

Oh ! they won’t start. ‘ Not till Jake tells 
’em. He’s got ’em trained. They ain’t never 
run away but twice. Say — ” 

Swidgeycorum ! ” 

Somebody suddenly hurled from some unknown 
point a ball of burdock burs. Their stickily prickly 
points fastened themselves in Daniel’s shock of 
hair, and as he angrily turned to discover the 
offender, a second missile, less deftly aimed, passed 
by its object and landed upon the sensitive temple 
of the most restless leader. 

^^Hi! there! Whoo-a 1 WHO-O-A-A!” 

There was a sudden rear and plunge, a babel 
of screams and commands, which only served to 
further incite the frightened high-bred horse, who 
leaped forward down the road, dragging his mates, 
the gay coach, and its innocent little driver ” 
behind him. 

Little Rob 1 Oh ! he ’ 11 be killed 1 Stop 
them — somebody 1 ” wailed Helen. 

The climbing, clambering children had mostly 
jumped or fallen off, at the first bound of the 
team. Two still crouched in the boot, compar- 
atively safe ; but the six-year-old in front swayed 
dizzily on the high driver’s seat, and his peril was 
imminent. 

They ’ll go straight home 1 ” roared Jake Lane, 


26 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

hoarsely, as he followed his steeds at a breakneck 
speed. But fleet as he was, another flying figure 
outstripped him, — a tall, lank youth in blue jeans, 
whose bare feet scarcely touched the smooth road 
as he frantically pursued the runaways. 

That hind off one ’s lame. I hope — ’’ thought 
Jacob, panting on. 

His hope was realized. The “ hind off one” 
was the most powerful member of the gray quar- 
tet. Thirteen hunderd ’s purty hefty fer a 
roadster,” Jake had reluctantly admitted, as the 
nearest to a fault one of his perfect ” animals 
could possess ; and he had secretly looked about 
among the best stables he could reach for another 
long-tailed, full-maned, fine-p’inted, iron-gray 
critter.” 

To his failure in this direction, and to the fact 
that the big horse had accidentally lamed itself a 
few days before, it was due that after a while 
Daniel’s flying footsteps began to gain somewhat 
upon those of his objects. 

Little by little the distance between them les- 
sened ; the grays came to a slower pace — he to a 
faster, it seemed ; and when the leader, still tor- 
mented by the sticking burs, veered suddenly 
toward the open bars of a river pasture, he made 
a diagona^^ cut across to where the team should 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 27 

emerge into the field and hurled his whole force 
against the nearest bit-ring. 

The ring held. So did the mountain lad’s iron 
grip. But the bur-stung horse would not yet 
yield, and he plunged persistently forward toward 
the river bank. 

They were almost upon it. Daniel raised his 
eyes and looking backward saw the white, terri- 
fied face of the little child, where it had fallen in 
the boot below the driver’s seat. 

An instant more they would all be over the bank 
and into the stream, and Daniel remembered 
thankfully, what he had at the time deprecated — 
that the two youngsters in the rear boot had long 
before leaped out from it into the dust of the road. 
They might be hurt, but they would not be 
drowned. 

^‘Neither shall little Rob ! ” 

There was one chance, the chance of a few sec- 
onds, to save the threatened life. It was a haz- 
ardous alternative, but its danger did not even 
suggest itself to Daniel, who saw the opportunity 
— and seized it. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A BOND OF SYMPATHY. 


T T ERE, Daniel, drink this.” 

JlJL The lad opened his eyes in a daze, yet 
with a confused memory of what had happened, 
to see the kindly face of Dominie Davidson bend- 
ing above him, and to realize that somebody was 
trying to force a draught of water down his throat. 

But he swallowed the water obediently, and 
his consciousness rapidly cleared. He was half- 
sitting, propped against a bowlder on the river 
bank, and he turned his head anxiously about, 
looking for the child he had tried to rescue. 


Did the little feller get hurt ? ” 

No. He ’s all safe. He ’s over yonder, among 
the girls. But what about yourself — brave boy ? 
I ’m afraid you ’re injured, yet I hope not badly.” 

I ? Hey ? I guess they ain’t nothin’ the matter 
with me.” 

There were the sounds of excited voices all 
about, and he made an effort to stand, to gratify 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


29 


his curiosity ; but to his own intense surprise he 
found this a difficult feat and remarked : — 
Swidgey-corum ! How I wobble ! ” 

That weakness will pass directly. Unless 
you are seriously, — unless, I mean, you have 
broken some bones. May have broken some 
bones,” repeated the master, in his absent-minded 
way. 

Daniel accordingly shook himself, with an 
awkward yet straightforward determination to 
discover the extent of his own injuries. He ex- 
perimented first with one long leg, then with the 
other, and concluded this physical self-examina- 
tion by stretching his arms above his head, then 
dropping them suddenly to his sides. 

Hmm. Ain’t nothin’ the matter with me. 
I ’m as sound ’s a nut. How ’s them horses ? 
Killed, I ’low ! ” 

No ! The w'onderful thing about the whole 
affair is that when all concerned in it, even the 
dumb beasts, might so easily have met their death, 
not one did. A remarkable Providence, truly. 
Let us be thankful for it.” 

Daniel opened his lips to reply, hesitated, and 
contented himself with an expressive grunt. 

Eh ? What were you going to say, lad ? 
Are — you hurt ? ” 


30 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


No. No, sir, I mean. I was jest a-thinkin’ 
— that 's all.’' 

Of what ?” 

The Dominie was distinctly interested in this 
odd specimen of the genus Boy. 

Oh ! o’ layin’ that fool piece o’ work to Provi- 
dence. Ma, she al’ays does it, too. ’Pears to me 
there wa’n’t no call for the thing ter happen, no 
way. If that there stage driver ’d had sense 
enough to ’tend to his own horses, as they was 
jest a-itchin’ to cut an’ run, there would n’t ’a’ 
ben no accident an’ no need fer Providence to 
step in an’ save us.” 

“ Why — why, Daniel ! ” exclaimed the 
shocked Dominie. I ’m afraid you ’re not 
orthodox ! ” 

‘‘Ain’t nothin’. Only, I ’low when \ he — 
somethin’, I ’ll try an’ treat the Lord jest as square 
as I would ary human critter.” 

With which rude, common-sense philosophy, he 
walked as steadily as he could toward that point 
on the river bank where Jake Lane stood among 
his horses, stroking and soothing them and care- 
fully examining their bruises. 

The stage man turned a beaming face toward 
Daniel. 

“ You bet, neighbor, I ’m a thankful man to 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 31 

see you able to peg along on your own pins. How 
you feel ? Hurt much ? ” 

No. Though everybody ’pears ter think I ’d 
ought ter be. How happen they didn’t break 
their legs ? ” 

“ That ’s the meracle of it ! If it had been 
done anywhere else this side Polinquet ’cept right 
square here, at the old ford, you ’d all been in 
kingdom come afore this. But I always did say 
them horses know as much as folks ! ” 

^^More ’n some ! ” remarked Daniel, dryly. 

What you mean? ” demanded Jacob, pausing 
in his task to regard the other curiously. 

Oh ! nothin’. But I don’t see why they 
did n’t ! 

Well, you know, the bank ’s slopin’, an’ con- 
sid’able smooth, river bed. ’s smooth too; that’s 
w^hy it was chose fer a ford. Beckon them grays 
jest thought they ’d cross over t’other side an^ take 
a nibble at that fat pasture-rnedder, you see. If 
it had n’t ’a’ ben fer them stumps, ’longside the 
bank, would n’t ben a mite o’ harm done. As H is!” 

Even the driver’s philosophy was not proof 
against the depression which now assailed him, 
as he regarded with critical eyes the w^eck of 
the utterly demolished coach, about which all the 
children had clustered in fascinated curiosity, 


32 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


— save the few older boys, who found a certain 
pride in helping hold ” one or other of the ap- 
parently repentant ‘‘team.” 

Like their master, who had plunged into the 
stream and caught them midway, suddenly 
brought to a standstill by the fall of the lame one, 
they were dripping with water and they stood 
with drooping heads, as if apologizing for the bad 
example they had set the children who petted 
them. 

“ Yes. I ’low that stage is about stove up. 
Can’t never drive it no more, can ye ? ” 

“ Don’t so ’pear. Anyhow — There ’s the 
Dominie callin’ you all to go back to school. 
Reckon old Red don’t often get up sech an excite- 
ment, jest to amuse the youngsters, on the first 
day o’ term ! ” 

The master was, in truth, calling and gesticu- 
lating, yet producing little effect upon the actions 
of the thoroughly animated children, who were 
talking loudly of what each “ would have done” 
had he or she been a partaker in the late “ affair.” 

But Daniel, who seemed the calmest pupil there, 
at last heard the summons and repeated it at 
closer range, and in such bawling tones that, per- 
force, it were understood and heeded. He turned 
to obey it himself, then reflected : — 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 33 

It don’t seem like more ’n half finishin’ the 
job to clear out an’ leave this feller alone. Say, 
Mister ! ” 

Well ? what is it ? ” 

Need n’t be huffy. I was jest goin’ t’ ask 
how you goin’ to get them horses o’ yourn home 
ag’in, — or to wherever they ’re bound.” 

’ll drive ’em easy enough ; but if you don’t 
mind, ye may take that there horn an’ the whip, 
if you can meet up with ’em on the road back to 
the schoolhouse, an’ take care of ’em till I call 
for ’em.^ Reckon I ’ll have to drive the old rock- 
away next trip down, an’ sha’n’t want nuther 
whip ner horn for no sech a turnout as that. My 
soul ! how that there Sim Beddecker ’ll crow over 
me! Hey?” 

S’pose like ’s not he will ; ” assented Daniel, 
and turned school ward. 

But he had not advanced far beyond the bar- 
way, which led from the meadow into the road, 
when he saw the little lad he had rescued walk- 
ing slowly along beside Helen Adair. The other 
scholars had all gone forward in a game of tag 
to the playground, — their attention already 
diverted from the late accident by this their first 
fun together after the long vacation. 

Hello, little shaver ! Got a purty good scare, 

3 


34 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


did n’t ye ? ” said Daniel, as the pair stopped 
directly in his path and he felt that some speech 
was demanded of him. But he ignored Helen, 
.keeping his eyes steadily forward, hoping thus to 
ward off the remark he feared sh-e would be im- 
pelled to address him. 

However, his rudeness did him no good. The 
girl was determined to be friendly, and she made 
him stop and listen as she exclaimed : — 

^^You needn’t pretend you don’t see me! I 
suppose it won’t seem anything to you, after 
stopping a runaway team and saving a child’s 
life, but I want to thank you for the way you 
acted in the spelling match. It was real good of 
you, and I saw it right away.” 

Spellin’ match 1 Oh ! that ’s nothing. I don’t 
know — ” 

^^Now, don’t go and spoil it all by telling a 
wrong story. You were going to say you ^ did n’t 
know what I meant,’ but you do. I know, well 
enough, that after spelling all those hard words 
— which nobody else in school could spell — you 
need n’t have missed those little silly ones as 
you did unless you ’d chosen to do it. You did 
choose. It was real manly of you, too. You 
hated to beat a girl quite so bad, I guess, and it 
shows you ’re a gentleman. My father says you 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


35 


can always tell a gentleman by the way he treats 
women. I ’m not a woman yet, of course, but I 
s’pose I feel as they do, in a kind of degree. Any 
how, I ’m much obliged to you.” 

It was a long speech, about the longest Helen 
had ever made ; but she wanted to show the awk- 
ward lad that he had fallen among appreciative 
friends, on whom no generous deed would be lost. 

Daniel blushed, Sho ! ”-ed, pretended to scan 
the distant landscape, as if he had suddenly 
discovered an object of absorbing interest, and 
finally ejaculated, — 

Swidgey-corum ! ” 

At which Helen laughed, and the woodlander 
felt so much relieved that he volunteered the 
question, — 

Say, Bobby ! Shall I pack ye ? ” 

Ain’t no ^ Bobby.’ I ’s Rob-ert Win-ches-ter 
Milder.” 

The little one’s tone was petulant, his chubby 
face still pale and grave. The other participants 
in the past danger might speedily forget it, but 
Robert would not soon, if ever. 

Pack ? What in the world ’s that ? ” asked 
Helen. 

Why — pack ! I don’t — I mean — to carry 
him on my back.’’ 


36 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Inwardly poor Daniel chafed angrily against 
this enforced walk beside a girl, and such a girl 1 
— whose dress and speech and ease of manner, 
compared to those of his forest acquaintances, 
were a revelation to him. 

She was so small, so dainty, and so pretty, 
that she made his own lumbering uncouthness 
almost unbearable, even to himself. Despite her 
declaration that he was a gentleman/’ he would 
have bolted then and there, had she been any 
other of the girls of this same school ; but she 
had unconsciously set him a pattern ” to which 
he felt himself forced to aspire. 

Again he groaned and muttered his one ex- 
pletive, — 

Swid-gey-co-rum ! ” 

Oh, dear ! I believe you are hurt, after all. 
If you don’t tell, it may be ever so much worse 
for you. Papa says — you know he’s the Doc- 
tor — that lots of people suffer more than they 
need if they would n’t neglect themselves so. It 
makes him so provoked to see folks let a ^ little 
biliousness ’ or something go, till it gets to be a 
real fever. Then it costs them lots of money to 
get well, and him a lot of worry. If you ’re hurt 
you’d better go right and see Papa, and I’ll 
excuse you to Dominie Davidson.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 37 

Daniel groaned again; but this time he in- 
tended the outburst to be facetious, and Helen so 
accepted it. 

Say, do you know, I think it ’s just wonder- 
ful that you could learn those words alone, out 
of the Dictionarj" ! Master told me you did. 
You can’t spell a whole Dictionary full, can 
you?” 

^^No. Sho ! T ain’t nothin’. I jest didn’t 
have nothin’ else ter do. So I’d set on the 
floor, afore the fireplace, an’ pick out the longest 
ones I seen. Master ’s right. ’T is a derned 
sight easier to spell them long ones ’n ’tis 
t’others.” 

Do you know other things just as well ? 
Cause if you do I guess Phil won’t be leader any 
more.” 

No. Don’t know nothin’. Honest Injin. 
Nothin’ only to read a little an’ the spellin’. But 
that ’s ’nough to make me jest plum crazy to Tarn 
more. Swidgeycorum ! If I don’t wrastle the 
insides out o’ some o’ them new books Master’s 
jest got, my name ain’t Dan Starbuck ! ” 

The ambitious light that leaped into the wood- 
lander’s eyes redeemed his plain face from its 
denseness, and woke an answering ambition in 
the girl’s own breast. 


38 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


I, too, am bound to have an education ! May- 
be, if I do my best here, maybe — ” 

She paused so long that Daniel ventured : 

Hey ? ” 

Maybe Papa will let me go away to some big, 
big place, like a boy’s college or something. Only 
— you see, my dear mother is an invalid. Aunt 
Delight is pretty old, and says she can’t keep house 
always ; and Papa calls his notions ^ old fashioned.’ 
He ’d rather I ’d learn to be just a good house- 
keeper and nurse than have the finest education 
in the world. I would n’t. But — I ’ll try to do 
right, anyway. What is it, Robbie ? ‘ So tired ? ’ 
I guess you ’d better let good Daniel carry you, 
after all.” 

So the child was swung up on the lad’s back, 
very much as if he had been a sack of meal, and 
they were then able to go forward much faster. 
After a moment of silence, Helen asked : — 

Is your name Starbuck ? Because I thought 
the man said ‘ Sharp.’ ” 

Hinm. That ’s his’n. Bet ’t ain’t mine ! ” 
Why, is n’t he your father ? ” 

Nope. Nothin’ but step.” 

Then you ’re just like darling Phil ! only, his 
‘ step ’ is a mother. That ’s — Why, what ? ” 
He would have been ashamed to tell her, to 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


39 


admit to anybody, in fact, just how profound an 
impression that brilliant, fascinating Philip had 
already made upon his mind, — Philip, who had 
smiled upon him a few times and made him his 
ally forever. To Philip’s height he had never 
hoped to attain, and yet — right here in this step- 
relationship — they met on a common ground ! 

Golly ! That ’s the first time in my life I ever 
was glad about — Sharp ! ” 

But the words were so low that they were evi- 
dently spoken only to himself ; and Helen walked 
on into the schoolhouse thinking that, after all, 
Daniel was as queer as he looked.” 


CHAPTER V. 


AT THE CLOSE OF THE DAY. 

ANIEL, after school is dismissed I will give 



you a brief private examination in your 
studies, — a fuller one than I ’m able to do in the 
classes.” 

Dominie Davidson made this remark toward 
the close of that afternoon’s session, and the lad 
had received it with a blush and a repellent shrug 
of his stooped shoulders. 

The master hastened to reassure him : — 

It ’s nothing formidable, but necessary for 
every pupil who enters the school. Just look over 
those question pages in the back of this book. 
See how much of the matter is familiar to you.” 

Daniel might have interested himself in them, 
as he did in everything which suggested learning, 
had it not been for a whisper which he overheard 
passing from Jimmy Bolton to his neighbor, and 
that confirmed his conviction of his own pitiable 
ignorance. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


41 


I don’t know no more ’n that there little Bob 
’bout most the things ! What ’s a little readin’ an’ 
spellin’ ’longside o’ that Hist’ry an’ G’og’aphy ? I 
— I a’most wish ’t I had n’t come. I wish ’t I ’d 
gone to some other place — only, I hadn’t no choice. 
’T was here or nowheres.” Then he supplemented 
his bitter thought by the grim determination, 
But — Swidgeycorum ! I come here for I’amin’ 
an’ I WILL I’arn, come what has to ! ” 

Atop of this reflection fell the scholar’s 
whisper : — 

Pooh ! That lanky new speller ain’t no great 
shucks, no how ! ’D you hear that, awhile back ? 
Master asked him where the Deestrick o’ Columbia 
was an’ he did n’t know. Did n’t know ! The 
Deestrick o’ Columb ! Say, lend me your knife ? ” 
No. Bet you don’t know, yourself ! ” 

I do so, Joe Beans ! ” 

Well, where is it ? ” 

Humph ! you ain’t the teacher ! ” 

There ! I knew you did n’t know ! ” — tri- 
umphantly. 

Boys ! James, Joseph ! What ’s all that whis- 
pering about ? ” 

Oh ! nothin’.” 

Joseph, answer me.” 

Jim says he does know where the ^ Deestrick ’ 


42 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


o’ Columbia is,” — with sarcastic emphasis upon 
the mispronounced word. 

Very well. He shall have an opportunity to 
air his knowledge. James Bolton, bound the 
District of Columbia.” 

Of course, Jimmy flunked, completely, igno- 
miniously, and became the subject of an outburst 
of ridicule which the master found it difficult to 
subdue, and in which the victim heartily joined. 
For he was used to being laughed at, and did n’t 
mind that, so long as it was fun of some sort. 

This episode comforted the mountaineer, but 
his pleasure was again dashed when, at the signal 
for dismissal, the phlegmatic James caught up his 
hat and called on Philip Sampson for — 

A race to the canal ! There ’s a boat — Cap’n 
Wetherby’s boat — cornin’ down. Hurry up ! 
Maybe he ’ll give us a sail ! ” 

A new and curious feeling of envy stirred in 
Daniel’s breast as he watched them go. All day 
his attention had been fascinated by this Philip, 
who was so different in dress and bearing from 
all the other lads in the school, yet who was so 
unmistakably hail-fellow-well-met with them all. 

I don’t see what he likes in that there humbly 
feller ! ” he thought, bitterly, critically observing 
the careless James. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


43 


The latter was not a prepossessing person, 
maybe ; but in manner and attire he was a fair 
sample of the Pleasant Valley lads. He was tall, 
somewhat shock-headed, and sun-burned. He wore 
a gingham shirt and trousers of a neutral hue, — 
these last well-patched and held up in place by one 
gallus worn diagonally across the body. His 
fe^t were bare, for no valley schoolboy, of Jimmy’s 
social plane, ever donned shoes and stockings till 
“ snow flew.” 

Altogether, Jimmy’s portrait was not greatly 
unlike Daniel’s own ; save that on the wood- 
lander’s face one could trace suggestions of 
something better to come, in the dissatisfied 
expressions which flitted over it whenever his 
own ignorance was brought home to him. As for 
Jimmy, he was wholly and completely satisfied 
with James Bolton; therefore the good Dominie 
regarded him as a hopeless case.” 

Daniel did not know, however, just how disa- 
greeable he really felt and looked until Dominie 
Davidson’s voice at his elbow aroused him. 

Why, my lad ! What is it ? Has anybody 
offended you ? ” 

No, sir. Did I look ’s if they had ? ” 

Surely. Never mind. Beginnings — of al- 
most any sort — are apt to be unpleasant. I 


44 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


foresee you will yet make us proud to call 
you a valley schoolboy. Now let 's to our work. 
Hand me that Geography, will you ? ’’ and 
the master sat himself down in a scholar's 
empty place and proceeded to put to the trem- 
bling youth a host of questions which he could 
not answer correctly, with a very few that he 
could. 

^^Well, well. You came here to learn, so you 
mustn’t be discouraged at the outset,” remarked 
the gentle old man as Daniel hitched rebelliously 
in his narrow quarters and looked eagerly toward 
the near-by open window as at an avenue of 
escape. “Never mind running away, just yet. 
Let me tell you something, — something in confi- 
dence. I ’ve never told it to any pupil before, not 
in all my long experience as a teacher. No. 
Because I always felt that it might lessen my 
influence. But I ’m going to tell you. I hn not 
even going to ask you to keep it to yourself, for 
I know you will. But the fact is, Daniel, that I 
was a good many years older than you are before 
I could read even a single word. I was twenty 
years old, my lad, before I learned the first letter 
of the alphabet. And now — ” 

“ Swidgey— co — RUM ! And now — you 
know all — that!” 





“ ‘ Swidgey 


CO 


RUM ! And now — you know all — that ! ’ ” 








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THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


45 


that’ isn’t much, measured by other 
men’s knowledge, though it may seem considera- 
ble to you to-day. Some other day it will not. 
Some other day, when you shall have advanced 
miles further on the road to wisdom than I have 
ever been able to go, I hope you will look back 
and remember what I tell you now : the more a 
person learns the less he thinks he knows. 
That ’s the truth in a nutshell. It would be a 
most disheartening truth, too, if it were not that 
this life is only the beginning of things. A sort 
of infant class, we ’ll call it, where we get ready 
for the great School of Eternity. Think of it, 
lad ! Just think of it ! A whole Eternity of 
limitless advancement ! ” 

To Daniel, fresh from his sordid, narrow forest 
home, this speech was a revelation. Everybody in 
all that countryside had heard of Dominie David- 
son. Some called him queer as Dick’s hat-band, 
’t went half-way round an' tucked under,” and 
some called him a saint.” 

Daniel called him nothing ; but he looked after 
him, as the old pedagogue rose and walked away 
toward his own desk, with a feeling of reverence 
and devotion which was to grow deeper and 
stronger as the days went by. 

Just a common country-school teacher, grown 


46 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


old in the service. Forty years he had gone in and 
out at that same little red schoolhouse and for 
forty years, to each succeeding generation, he had 
looked, outwardly, much as he appeared to the 
woodlander that day. 

A big-framed, spare-fleshed man, in a faded 
linen duster, which reached nearly to his heels, 
and had capacious outside pockets, always bulg- 
ing forward in obliging readiness to receive for- 
bidden marbles, whistles, chewing-gum — mostly 
home-made and spruce.’' From the lower 
right hand one of these pockets there projected 
along the wearer’s back a smart hickory switch.” 
This was so long that its slender tip caught in the 
black skull-cap or tangled the thin hair below it. 
Then it would drop out and be lost ; and, oddly 
enough, the same switch was never again discov- 
ered ! — though this mattered little, for a bundle 
of similar badges of office was always kept in 
stock above the schoolhouse door. 

The Dominie was nearly bald, hence the cap ; 
but, by way of compensation, he had a tuft of 
truly ferocious whiskers before each ear, while 
his faded blue eyes looked out from beneath such 
beetling brows as had struck terror to many 
a truant’s heart. Kindly or stern, these eyes 
looked over, under, rarely directly through, a 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


47 


pair of great horn-bowed spectacles that bridged 
an aquiline nose. 

The stand-up collar, the dickey, and black 
satin stock were of the fashion in vogue when 
Dominie Davidson was himself a new-comer to 
the valley school, and tradition said that the 
spectacles antedated these. 

Be that as it may. The children who had 
then welcomed the new master to the new school 
were parents and grandparents now, when Daniel 
had also come to learn of him, and none had 
seen him change. That gentle, imperceptible 
decay which marked his passing years could not 
be called by any term so vigorous as ‘^change.” 

After a moment of sitting silent, taking this 
mental photograph, Daniel left his own desk and 
went to the master’s, where the latter was busy 
arranging his books and papers for the night. 
The lad had been profoundly moved by the un- 
expected confidence in him, and his soul had 
been kindled by this other enthusiastic soul to 
higher aspirations than he had ever known, 
though in a dim, half-understood way he had 
always aspired.” 

Thanky, Master. I — I ain’t goin’ ter fer- 
get, never, the way you’ve treated me to-day. 
I — I don’t know how to say it — but — ’t ain’t 


48 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


throwed away. You ’ll see. I ’ll show you. — 
I — I — Swidgeycorum ! Why carit a feller say 
what he wants to 1 Nev’ mind.” 

After a desperate attempt and utter failure, 
the lad gave over trying to express himself as 
he wished, and abruptly changed the subject. 

Say, Dominie, who is that there Phil Samp- 
son ’t ’pears so diff’rent from all the rest on us ? 
Was he raised ’round here ? ” 

‘^He’s being ^raised’ here, in more senses 
than one, I hope. But he is n’t a real valley 
boy, though his forbears were. His father lives 
in New York.” 

New York ! New York ! That ’s where that 
writin’ feller lived ’t give me the Dictionary an’ 
taught me all I know ’bout readin’.” 

In common with many another country lad 
Daniel Starbuck dreamed of this unknown, dis- 
tant city as of a Mecca whither he would make 
his pilgrimage some day. He became instantly 
absorbed in contemplating its imagined glories, 
and his silence well suited the master’s own 
mood. 

There were all those new books to be ex- 
amined and Dominie Davidson found now his 
first opportunity to cut the strings of that pre- 
cious package. Only, he did not cut them. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


49 


With infinite pains, schooling his patience, he 
laboriously untied the many knots, carefully 
folded the brown-paper wrappings, and had but 
just allowed himself to open the uppermost of 
the pile, when, like a sharp-edged stone through 
a window pane, a rasping human voice hurled 
itself into this peaceful stillness. 

Hello, old man ! Ain’t you ’bout ready to 
go home ? I ain’t goin’ to wait ’round here all 
day, I can tell you ! I’m goin’ a-fishin’, I am ! ” 


CHAPTER VI. 


AN INDEPENDENT MEMBER OF THE HUMANE 
SOCIETY. 

D aniel roused from his dream, and the 
Dominie from his study. 

The boy stepped to the window and looked 
out, while the teacher hastily closed his beloved 
books and shut them within his desk. As he 
did so he sighed, and the sigh had so much of 
weariness and timidity about it that it impressed 
the watchful Daniel. 

Hello, you — woodchuck ! The Dominie 
in there ? ’’ 

The question came from a youth in a buck- 
board outside the building, which it had ap- 
proached almost noiselessly by driving over the 
grass. 

Yes, I’m here. I ’m nearly ready,” re- 
sponded the master, promptly; then added by 
way of explanation : It ’s Renew and the 

megatherium. Renew doesn’t like to be kept 
waiting. If you ’ll step out now, I ’ll — ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 51 

Who you callin’ ^ woodchuck ’ ? ” demanded 
the wood lander, angrily, ignoring the old man’s 
explanation. 

You ! you — whatever you think your name 
is ! Tell him to hurry up ! ” 

Daniel coolly surveyed the new-comer, with a 
sarcastically critical eye. When he had satis- 
fied himself he demanded, contemptuously, — 

And who do you call yourself, you terr’ble 
smart feller ? ” 

Come out here, and I ’ll tell you.” 

Daniel’s long legs and forest training had not 
been given him for nothing. With the quick- 
ness of a squirrel he leaped through the window. 
The suddenness with which he accepted the chal- 
lenge astounded the challenger, who jerked the 
reins to back the megatherium ” out of range. 

The animal was old and gaunt of aspect, — 
hence its title, bestowed in one of the Dominie’s 
playful moods, — and from long suffering at the 
hands of its present driver it had acquired a self- 
protecting habit of balking. 

That is, the aim was self-protection, but the 
habit generally resulted in greater misery to the 
poor beast. 

Meg planted her feet firmly in the sod, stiffened 
the muscles of her neck, laid her great ears back- 


52 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLIIOUSE. 


ward, and cast a wicked gleam from her one eye 
upon her tormentor. 

You won’t, eh ? Well, we ’ll see about that ! ” 

Whack, crack, swish, swish, swish ! 

The whip-lash was laid about the bony old 
body with energy and despatch. Yet the mega- 
therium moved not an inch. She might have 
served for a sculptor’s model, so rigid was her pose. 

Daniel laughed scornfully. His sympathies 
were wholly with the horse. 

The laugh angered the other lad still more, 
and he laid the whip-cuts on the faster, while his 
face grew red and his black eyes flashed furious 
glances upon the mocking stranger. 

Now, Daniel had lived all his life among ani- 
mals, the wild ones of the great woods and the 
meek-spirited ones upon his step-father’s small 
farm, and he loved them like friends. He en- 
dured this miserable scene as long as he could, 
and then he burst out : — 

You quit whalin’ that poor beast, or I ’ll tan 
your jacket ! ” 

You ? You can’t do it ! ” 

Can’t I ? Leave the mare alone ! ” 

I sha’n’t. She ’s got to back this wagon 
where I want it or I ’ll break every bone in her 
body.” 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


53 


Look here, young feller, I don’t know who 
you be, an’ I ’m glad I don’t. But you hark back 
to me ! If you tetch to lick that horse ag’in, I ’ll 
lick you. Hear ? ” 

Daniel had now become so incensed that he 
was calm. Still anger is always the most dan- 
gerous ; but Renew Hapgood did n’t know this. 
If he had he would n’t have been warned. He 
was Renew Hapgood ; sufficient unto himself for 
any deed of prowess. He now laughed again 
tauntingly, sneeringly, abating not one jot the 
force of his cruel blows. 

Daniel quietly turned and sprang back through 
the window into the schoolroom. He cast one 
hasty glance toward the master, and saw, fortu- 
nately, that the hungry old student, finding 
himself free from Renew’s importunities, had 
immediately opened another book and become 
engrossed in its pages. 

Without arousing him, therefore, the wood- 
lander crossed to the blackboard, above which it 
had been laid, and took down the stage-driver’s 
long whip. Then he walked straight back to the 
window, leaped through it once more, and unfurl- 
ing the lash laid it about the dandified Renew 
with such earnestness that the latter jumped 
from the buckboard and ran screaming away. 


54 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Daniel calmly, persistently, pursued him. Each 
time the fugitive thought he had secured^ a safe 
retreat behind some friendly bush or tree, he was 
driven thence by the keen swish of the fine lash 
about his ears. 

The megatherium woke up, astonished, and 
followed the battle with a watchful one-eyed 
glance ; and when she discovered that those omi- 
nous swishings were not meant for her own well- 
calloused skin, it seemed to Daniel that she 
positively grinned. 

Will you beat that there old nag ag’in ? Will 
you ? ’’ 

No ! Oh ! no. Let me go. I give up. I ’m 
whipped enough. I say ! Ho-ld on ! Hold on ! ’’ 

Promise. • Honest Injin. Hope ter die,’ an’ 
all the rest of it. Then I ’ll let ye go.” 

I — promise ; ” then added, under his breath, 
till next time ! ” 

The tone was not so faint but the mountaineer 
heard it. He emphasized this fact by another 
cut of the handsome whip, though this time sent 
out in beautiful curves upon the innocen^ air. 
Nevertheless, the curves were suggestive, and 
Kenew’s ankles still tingled. 

None o’ yer holdin’ back. Say it out plumb 
straight an’ loud. After me : ^ I promise — ’ ” 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


55 


^ I — promise — ’ ” 

^ ’T I won’t never whip the Dominie’s mare 
ag’in, ’ithout his consent.’ ” 

The sting of the whip-cuts was growing fainter, 
and all the malicious deviltry of Renew’s nature 
rose to the fore. With inimitable mimicry of 
Daniel’s tone and accent he repeated : — 

^ ’T you won’t never whip the Dominie’s mare 
ag’in, ’ithout his consent ! ’ ” 

Again there was an ominous pause. Daniehs 
subsiding anger returned in double force. He 
squared his jaw, but tossed the insufficient whip 
aside. Then he made a sudden lunge among the 
branches of the great fir-tree and drew his enemy 
thence. 

His grip was like steel. Had he not been 
trained to handle mighty tree-trunks ? And 
what was a boy like this? 

Renew could not have escaped if he had tried, 
and he did n’t try. Daniel stood him up in a 
position that seemed satisfactory, and the cowed 
bully remained in it as if he had been a wooden 
image. 

Then the woodlander retreated a pace or two, 
rolled up his sleeves, spat on his palms, and 
remarked : — 

Now get ready. Fisticuffs ’ll suit ye better, 


56 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


maybe. Ye ’d oughter take yer jacket off. It ’s 
nice, an’ I hate ter spile it.” 

Renew flushed, squared himself valiantly, and 
rallying the remnant of his courage, hissed an 
ignominious epithet toward his adversary. 

That straw broke the camel’s back, though it 
had been pretty well cracked before. 

One — two — three ! There you — he ! ” 

There he was indeed! Poor Renew! — flat on 
his back among the prickly fur needles, whither 
his opponent had tossed him, as if he had been a 
useless bit of rubbish, best hidden from sight. 

When he thought that Daniel had gone away. 
Renew crawled out of the fir-tree. He was 
whipped, indeed, but he was not conquered. 
He would be exceedingly careful in future to 
keep beyond range of the mountaineer’s fist, 
but he would not forget their first meeting. 
With a vindictive scowl on his round, dark 
face, he ruefully surveyed the jacket which 
was rent asunder, as Daniel had prophesied it 
would be. 

Then he limped forward toward the school- 
house, and beheld the victor of the fray still 
lingering on the field. On the latter’s freckled 
face there was a look of seraphic sweetness. He 
was now at peace with all the world, and held out 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 57 

his great hand toward the vanquished stranger, 
with the words : — 

Hope I did n't hurt ye much. Sorry I tore 
yer roundabout. I 'll take it home an’ get Ma 
ter fix it, if ye say so. Hey ? ” 

Renew gave one fierce glance into the smiling 
blue eyes, then set out on a run toward help and 
condolence. 

Uncle ! Oh, Uncle Henry — I’m killed ! Oh, 
Uncle ! ” 

Uncle ! Him ? The Dominie ? To that — 
whelp ! " 

For a moment Daniel remained as if rooted 
to the spot, while his amazement grew apace. 
Then the entire episode, with all its probable and 
possible unpleasant consequences, pictured itself 
in his mind, and with a speed as much exceed- 
ing Renew’s as his legs and his feelings were 
stronger, he turned and ran in the opposite 
direction. 

When he had reached the corner of the roads, 
however, he stopped short. 

What 's the matter with me, anyhow ? That 
feller needed lickin,' an’ I licked him. Dominie' s 
a man, I ’low. I '11 go back an’ tell the hull 
yarn. Anyway ye fix it, I '11 never let nobody — 
nobody, if he was the President — mistreat an 


58 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


animal ’ithoiit givin’ him a taste o’ the same 
puddin’. So, here ’s for the master ! ” 

Yet he was hardly prepared for the sincere 
sorrow which overspread that master’s face when 
he appeared in the schoolroom again. 

Why, Daniel ! I cannot tell you how dis- 
appointed I am ! ” 

Likely ’nough. I ’ve come ter say I did n’t 
know he was any o’ your kin. I would n’t a 
s’pected it, an’ I did n’t mean no disrespeck ter 
you. But he needed all I gin him, an’ more. 
Now you can do with me jest what you think ’s 
right. Good-night.” 


CHAPTER YII. 


AFTER THE BATTLE. 

'' TT ELLO, Daniel ! ” 

X JL The call, the crash of a pony’s foot- 
falls on the underbrush, and the sudden appear- 
ance of horse and rider before the astonished 
woodlander were simultaneous. 

Oh ! Hello ! ” 

“ Did n’t expect to see me, did you ? ” 

No.” 

Is this the way to your house ? ” 

Yes.” 

Daniel felt that here, in the forest, he was 
the host, and that something more than mono- 
syllables was due from him to this visitor, who 
was none other than Philip upon his sorrel pony ; 
but somehow the lad was tongue-tied, and could 
not easily rouse himself from the sombre mood in 
which he had been slowly plodding homewards, 
after his experience with Renew Hapgood. 

^^Well, what’s up? You look as if you wish 
I had n’t come. I was going to tell you I ’d ride 


60 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


up here after school, but I went off with the boys 
to the canal and forgot it. I’ve a message for 
your father from Uncle Adair. I can give it to 
you, or go on with you and tell him. Which do 
you like ? ” 

I don’t care. No, 1 don’t mean that. May- 
be you ’d better tell him yourself. He ’s like to 
be in a mad with me, ’count ’o my bein’ so late 
home from school. The first day, too. Only, 
say, he ain’t my father, an’ I ’d ruther you 
would n’t call him so.” 

All right. Call him an 3 ’thing, — Old Squizzle- 
jigs, if you like. Anything’ll do for a name. 
Hold on ! Those are wild grapes up there ! ” 
^^They ain’t ripe yet. We ain’t had a mite o’ 
frost.” 

Should hope we had n’t. Summer is n’t 
really over, jou know. All the same, I ’m going 
to get some. Here, hold Dapple, will you?” 

Phil took it for granted always that every- 
body else was as obliging as himself, and as free 
from care. He ignored the fact that Daniel had 
already mentioned being late, and added this 
further hindrance with a cheerful composure that 
amused the more thoughtful Daniel. . 

Well — I s’pose I can hold it. I reckon }^ou 
think I might as well hang fer a sheep as a lamb. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 61 

I ’m in fer the lickin’ anyway, an so — go ahead ! 
Only — 

Half way up the vine-covered tree, Philip 
paused and looked down. 

Only what 

Thera grapes ain’t fit to eat. They ’ll give 
ye the stomach-ache.” 

Let it ache ! I live with the doctor.” 

Humph ! ” 

However, a few samples of the acrid fruit were 
sufficient to send the climber down again, with 
his face in a comical twist, and exclaiming : — 

Right you are. They ’re as sour as get out. 
Make me feel just the way old Deacon Tewks- 
bury looks. See ? ” 

Daniel did not know Deacon Tewksbury, but 
his companion’s grimace was so absurdly funny 
that he laughed outright, and with the laughter 
forgot all his previous discontent. 

Ain’t you odd ! Say, though, if you ’re hun- 
gry I know where they ’s some late blackberries. 
’D you ever eat any of ’em ’at had ripened in the 
woods this time o’ year ? ” 

Never. And I’m hungry, of course. I don’t 
remember when I was n’t, except right after a 
Thanksgiving dinner.” 

Daniel, the truthful, strictly matter-of-fact 


62 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


boy, looked his amazement. He had seen the 
dinner which the other had eaten at nooning,” 
and, compared to his own slice of cold suppawn 
and one harvest apple, it had been a luxurious 
feast. 

You look as if you did n’t believe me. 
You ’ll find it ’s a fact. Ask the cook if it 
is n’t.” 

Sho ! ” 

Fetch on your berries. Where are they ?” 

Over yender. Down ’longside a brook runs 
through them big trees.” 

Come on, then ! You lead Dap.” 

Daniel obeyed, guiding the animal so gently 
through the tangle of shrubs and vines which 
covered the ground over which they had to pass 
that Philip was surprised and remarked : — 

Why, you treat that pony as if he was — 
folks ! ” 

He looks ’s if he might be. He ’s terr ’ble 
cunnin’.” 

He ain’t so cunning sometimes. If he 
doesn’t get his exercise every day he acts like 
Sancho ! ” 

Is he yourn ? ” 

Yes. But he is n’t as nice as Helen’s. Hers 
is a beauty, I tell you. Oh ! Say ! ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


63 


Philip paused, struck by a sudden thought 
which had occurred to him, but not knowing ex- 
actly how to put it into words, — rather, waiting 
to find out something further about the lad beside 
him before he mentioned the matter. 

Well, what ? ” 

Nothing. Not just yet.'’ 

They picked their way in silence for a little 
distance further ; then they came upon a glen of 
wonderful loveliness, where the ferns were knee- 
deep and where the crisp-leaved blackberry-vines 
grew richly loaded with the luscious fruit which 
Daniel had promised. 

My goodness ! I never saw such berries ! 
Why, — they ’re as sweet as honey ! ” cried the 
always hungry ” Philip ; and thereafter, for 
some moments he became so absorbed in gather- 
ing and eating them that he remembered nothing 
else. When he had quite satisfied himself, he 
turned about and saw his guide sitting quietly 
upon a big rock near by, holding Dapple’s bridle 
rein and watching the pretty creature browse 
among the juicy herbage all about the spot. 

There ! That ’s enough for a minute. But 
— say ! Have n’t you had any yourself ? ” 

No. I don’t want ’em.’^ 

Are n’t you hungry? ” 


64 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


No.’’ 

What ’s the matter, then ? ” 

‘‘ I was just a-thinkin’.” 

About what ? ” 

How ’t you might say I ’d started school a 
horseback ! Only, not jest that way, nuther. 
But I Ve been mixed-upedy with horses all day, 
’an I ’low one o’ my jobs ’ll cost me dear.” 

I don’t understand. Explain yourself. Oh ! 
I see. The runaway. But I don’t know how 
that ’s going to cost you anything. It ’s poor 
Jake Lane that ’s the loser there, is n’t it ? ” 

Say, who ’s Renew Hapgood ? ” 

The meanest little skunk in Pleasant Valley.” 
Daniel caught his breath. 

Do ye mean it ? ” 

Don’t I ? Ask any fellow in school, or any 
girl, either. They’ll all tell the same story. 
He ’s a regular little prig. He thinks he dresses 
awfully swell, and he does n’t know what good 
clothes are. His mother ’s a fool — begging 
her pardon ! — but she is, all the same. He ’s 
her only ^ baby boy ’ and she ’s spoiled him from 
the word go. If he lived with anybody else on 
earth, except Dominie Davidson, he ’d be horse- 
whipped about once a day, and serve him right, 
too.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 65 

It was evident that Philip did not like the 
redoubtable Renew any better than Daniel did, 
and the latter's spirits rose exultantly. His 
whole face altered, and he slapped his knee with 
such vehemence that Dapple, startled, looked a 
gentle remonstrance from her big brown eyes. 

Say, tell me the hull business 'bout him. Who 
is he ? An' if, as you 'low, he needed horsewhip- 
pin', why — he got what he needed, fer once ! " 
How so ? Who 'd dare give it him ? " 

Who would n't ? Sech a coward. I gin it to 
him, then." 

‘^You? You! When? Where? How? Tell 
me yourself ^ the hull business.' I don't under- 
stand." 

Daniel was too interested in the subject to 
resent the mimicry of his provincialism, though 
he noticed it. Besides, it was Philip who mim- 
icked, which made it all right. 

In a few terse sentences he described the affair, 
and admitted that it was this which had sent him 
home in such a dejected mood. 

'Cause, you see. Dominie he treated me fust- 
rate. He did n't pay no 'tention to all that mean 
talk o' Sharp's 'bout my bein' turned out o’ other 
schools — an’ 't was a lie, anyhow. An' when 
that boy yelled out ^ Uncle ! ’ it jest knocked me 
5 


66 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 


higher ’n a kite. What d’ you s’pose the master ’ll 
do ’bout it ? Turn me out o’ school, maybe ? ” 
Not a bit of it. Not as soon as he hears the 
true story. But Renew ’ll tell him a whopper 
first. He could n’t help it. He ’s what Uncle 
Adair calls a ^ constitutional liar.’ ” 

Ain’t one kind o’ liar same ’s another ? ” 
‘^Doctor says not. All the Hapgoods have 
been the same way — but that ’s no matter. You 
see old Dominie has no wife, — he never had 
one ; and when his housekeeper who ’d lived with 
him so long went off and got married, he sent for 
his niece, Mrs. Hapgood, and her boy, Renew, to 
come and keep house for him. Aunt Delight says 
the Dominie has n’t known a peaceful day since, 
but I don’t know about that. All I do know is 
about the boy himself. He ’s a sneak. He comes 
to school when he wants to, and never any other 
time. He comes just often enough to keep us all 
in hot water. He ’s a tattler, and while he ’ll do 
the meanest things a fellow could hatch up he ’ll 
watch out for anybody else’s fun and tell. He 
likes to see another boy get a licking, and once 
in a while the Dominie does whale us awful.” 
Can’t he see through the critter ? ” 

He does n’t seem to. Or else he puts up with 
everything for the sake of peace. Mrs. Hapgood 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 67 

has no money, so Dominie gives her all his salary. 
Uncle says she governs him a deal better than 
she does her own son, but almost everybody in 
the neighborhood pities the poor old fellow. It ’s 
odd, is n’t it ? Dominie fules us, and that young 
whipper-snapper rules him.” 

’T may be odd, but it ’s goin’ to be mighty 
on pleasant fer me.” 

Oh ! it won’t after he understands. Likely 
Renew said it was you picked a quarrel with him, 
and did n’t tell why. If he did tell the real reason 
it ’ll be a feather in your cap, because there ’s 
nobody makes such a fuss about animals as that 
old man does. Why, last year he nearly killed 
Lute Beans, just for catching frogs down in the 
swamp and cutting their legs off. There was a 
man boarding at the Beans’ house and he liked 
them. They ’d never heard of eating such things 
before, but, of course, they were glad to give him 
what he wanted. Dominie said Lute had ought 
to have killed the frogs outright, and not have 
let them go again. But the man told Lute the 
legs would grow on, the second time, if he put 
them back. So he did ; and when Dominie found 
it out, and that little Rob Miller had been helping 
in the job, he nearly whaled the skin off Lute’s 
back.” 


68 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


“ Humph ! He’d oughter ! ” 

Is n’t it just as bad to hurt a boy as it is a 
frog ? And he did hurt Luther.” 

^‘No. A boy has sense. Or he’d oughter 
have.” 

Well, never mind. It ’s getting on to supper 
time. If I ’ve to go ’way home with you, let ’s 
start. It ’s a good bit further yet, is n’t it ? ” 
Swidgeycorum ! Will you want any more 
supper to-night ?” 

Why, certainly. Why not ? ” 

I thought you ’d eaten all you could hold o’ 
them berries. But this is the way. Right acrost 
here. I ’low the old man ’ll be in a fine tantrum 
’bout now, though. Must be nigh on ter half- 
past five.” 

Daniel was still carefully guiding Dapple 
through the wood, and Philip walking at ease 
beside him. The latter now pulled out a pretty 
silver watch and examined its face. The result 
not being satisfactory, he shook it violently and 
finally tossed it up among the branches, catch- 
ing it as if it were a ball when it descended 
again. 

Golly ! I sh’d think you ’d spile it ! 

Likely I have. Anyway it does n’t keep 
decent time. I want a gold one, but Uncle says 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 69 

I can’t have it till I learn to take better care of 
this. I don’t mind. What does a fellow need of 
a watch in the country? My! Isn’t it quiet up 
here ! Do you suppose it will be dark before I 
can get home ? ” 

Be ye afraid ? ” 

Afraid ? I was never afraid of anything in 
my life. Only I should n’t like to pass the night 
in these woods. Besides — there ’d be the mischief 
to pay. There always is when a fellow has the 
most fun. Hello! What’s this?” 

Both lads stopped short on the pa^th, just where . 
it emerged into the cleared land that surrounded 
the Sharp homestead. Confronting them, livid 
with anger, and with an ox-goad in his hand, 
stood Abel Sharp. 

So ho ! So ho ! This is the way ye keep yer 
promise, is it? You was a-goin’ ter be home ^ hours 
afore chore time,’ was ye ? If only I ’d let ye go 
an’ get a little I’arnin’ to the Valley school. Wall, 
then, you young scalliwag, all I can say is — 
ye 've finished yereddication ! ’T ain’t every-body’s 
so smart as you be ; can get all the teachin’ 
they want in jest one day.” 

Daniel’s face paled till Philip was frightened. 
With an instinctive feeling of comradeship he 
placed himself close beside the terrorized lad and 


70 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

laid his hand affectionately upon the young step- 
son s shoulder. 

Don’t mind him, Dan. He ’ll change his tune 
when he hears my story.” Then to the irate 
farmer : You ’re mistaken, my friend, in the 
way you speak to this boy. He ’s a hero. May- 
be you did n’t know that.” 

A — what?” 

A — HERO. Understand ? ” 

’T you ’re a sassy feller — yes ! Who be ye ? ” 

I ’m Philip Sampson, Doctor Adair’s nephew. 
I ’ve come to ask you if you can supply him with 
a few loads of that good hickory wood you sent 
him last winter. He wants it for Aunt Serapha’s 
open fire, and it must be especially well cured.” 

‘^Wa-all, I don’t — know. Mebbe. I — wall, 
yes. I reckon I can. But you, Dan’l, jest make 
tracks fer the barn yard. If you don’t get them 
cows milked within ten minutes I ’ll cowhide ye, 
besides makin’ ye go ’ithout yer supper. That 's 
settled, anyhow. An’ so ’s the schoolin’. Wall, 
young feller, if that ’s all yer arrant ye can jump 
on yer nag an’ travel home ag’in. Tell yer uncle 
I ’ll send him the wood ter-morrer. Dan’l will 
fetch it. He ’s finished his schoolin’, an’ so he dl 
hev plenty of time. Step along, Dan’l ! ” 

The last advice was emphasized by a light 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 71 

stroke of the goad on the victim’s shoulder, — by a 
possibility of intention, the very shoulder on which 
Philip’s hand rested. The mutual sting which 
the two lads suffered was the final trifle which 
cemented their friendship. 

An angry flush rose to Phil’s cheek, and a de- 
fiant sparkle to his brown eyes. Stooping sud- 
denly forward he whispered something in his 
companion’s ear, which electrified that young 
person and made him actually oblivious to the 
fact of Abel Sharp’s presence. 

“ Swid-gey-co-rum ! Do you mean it ? ” 

Honest Indian ! Get up. Dap ! ” 

With a spring the handsome lad mounted his 
horse, and disappeared ; but Daniel had to be 
twice reminded of the neglected chores,” by 
Abel’s cruelly suggestive methods, before he re- 
covered from the abstraction into which his new 
friend’s whispered words had thrown him. 

Even when he did look up, and realize what 
was demanded of him, he turned such a radiant 
face toward his guardian that that austere person 
was utterly dumfounded. 


CHAPTER YIIL 


AT THE OLD SAMPSON HOMESTEAD. 

‘ TV /fY darling, has your cousin Philip come in 

IVl yet ? ” 

Helen Adair paused in her loving task of fix- 
ing Mamma’s room for the evening,” and turned 
a troubled face toward the couch whereon the in- 
valid passed all of her days, and had passed them 
ever since Helen could remember. 

No, Mamma dear, not yet. But it is iTt late. 
Not so very late. He ’ll be here soon.” 

Mrs. Adair sighed. Philip, her brother’s son, 
was as dear to her as if he had been her own. 
She loved him almost more dearly than her own 
daughter ; perhaps because the lad gave her end- 
less — sometimes needless — anxiety, and Helen 
gave her none. 

How did school go to-day, my child ? Was 
Phil very late ? ” 

‘‘Not so very. Mamma. He was some late, of 
course. He wouldn’t begin to get ready in time. 
But if you ’re rested enough may I tell you now 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 73 

about the runaway and all ; how brave the new 
scholar was ? He ’s such a hero, I think ! ” 

Wait a little, dearie. Your father and Aunt 
Delight will soon be coming in. Phil, too, and I 
don’t care to hear the story but once.” 

The girl laughed, not at all offended. Between 
these two there was a perfect understanding, and 
Helen knew that her mother would not be able to 
listen to any tale, attentively, till the absent 
member of the household had returned. 

It was a big, and by daylight, sunshiny room, — 
the biggest and pleasantest in the whole house, 
and furnished the most prettily. Of the fierce 
battles with pain which its four walls had wit- 
nessed, the prisoner within them — a prisoner to 
an incurable disease — gave little sign, save in 
the gathering lines upon her face. 

This face was very like Helen’s own, only for 
its added years and these involuntary furrows 
which suffering had traced. It smiled brightly 
still, as the girl’s, and now turned toward the door 
and the Doctor entering, with a welcome so gay it 
was a rest in itself. 

^‘Well, I’m tired!” exclaimed the physician, 
throwing himself wearily into an easy-chair. 
‘^Ridden over thirty miles since dinner, just to 
find — I was n’t needed.” 


74 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


How ’s that ? The patient get well ? ” asked 
Mrs. Adair, laughing. 

Oh ! no. He could ii’t get well, for the simple 
reason that there was nothing the matter. It was 
old Butterfield.” 

^^Oh! indeed!” 

Old Butterfield ” was a hypochondriac, — the 
most exacting of the doctor’s patients, and the 
most profitless. 

Yes. I believe I ’ll give him up. I told him 
to-day that I should, I would n’t be bothered so, — 
that he ought to see some other patients of 
mine sometimes; then he’d know what courage 
and real illness were.” 

That it was herself of whom he was thinking, 
the invalid understood from the affectionate 
glance her husband gave her; but, as she often 
said, The one person I can’t abide talking 
about is Serapha Adair.” So she changed the 
subject immediately, and gathered news of what 
had been going on upon the great farm which was 
their homestead. 

Then Aunt Delight appeared at the doorway. 

‘^Serapha, I’m not going to save that supper 
for that boy another minute 1 When I was a 
child if I did n’t know enough to come home to 
my meals, I was made to go without them. I ’m 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


75 


going to turn over a new leaf with Philip; or 
I ’ll inarch him back to his own people, mighty 
sudden.” 

Now, Auntie ! ^ You ’ll do nothing of the 
kind! You know you couldn’t live without 
him 1 ” exclaimed Helen, running to the tall old 
lady and clasping her arm affectionately. 

Humph. Could n’t live without you, maybe. 
Why can’t you teach him some of your own me- 
thodical ways, lassie?” 

Because he would n’t be Philip then 1 ” 

There came sudden rush and spring ; a pair 
of strong arms were thrown about Aunt Delight’s 
neck from behind; her head with its stiffly 
starched cap was bent downward, and a smart 
smack resounded through the room. 

You saucy boy ! ” 

But Phil dodged the blow that the indignant 
old lady aimed at his ears, and catching her about 
the waist, gaily waltzed her out of the doorway, 
into and down the hall, toward the dining-room 
and supper. 

Philip 1 Now, Phil ! Unhand me, laddie, 
there ’s a dear 1 It ’s true, all the same, that the 
next time — the very next time — you are late 
you will go without your supper.” 

Philip stopped instantly and assumed a mock 
tragic air. 


76 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Now, Auntie ! That ’s serious. It really is.” 

You ’ll find it ’s serious, my boy.” 

I surely should. What would my life be 
without my supper?” 

“A barren waste, I grant you. Food and fun 
are all you think about.” 

Right you are, dear Aunt Delight. It ’s food 
has made me late this time.” 

What do you mean ? ” Then to the maid, 
opening the kitchen door, ^^Yes, you may put it 
on the table this time, Molly. This time only.” 

Molly dared not smile. Indulgent as the house- 
keeper was to this wilful lad, she was anything 
but indulgent to other folk, and exacted from her 
servants not only prompt obedience, but every 
mark of outward respect. 

So the girl restrained her smiles till her back 
was turned, and presently re-entered the room 
where aunt and nephew were now seated beside 
the table, bearing a tray well loaded with good 
things. 

Phil glanced over the various dishes as they 
were deposited before him, his satisfaction grow- 
ing apace, then cast a quizzical glance into the 
austere face of his great-aunt. 

Auntie, I thought the way of the transgressor 
ought to be hard.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


77 


What now, irreverent ? ” 

Nothing. Only I ’ve noticed, merely noticed, 
that every time I am late to supper I have a 
little better one than I should have had if I ’d 
been on time. Naturally, as I intend to be a 
lawyer, I draw my deductions from these prem- 
ises. When I feel the especial need of a fine 
supper — I ’ll be late.” 

‘^You’ll be no lawyer, young man. You’ll 
be a minister — ” 

Or you ’ll ^ know the reason why ’ ? ” 
Exactly. And about these extra dishes. 
They’re none of my fixing. That is, if I did 
fix them, it was n’t for you. It was for Serapha, 
who ’s that silly about you she always wishes 
every little tid-bit left over of her own dainty 
food to be ^set aside for Phil.’ You ought to 
appreciate your Aunt Serapha, Philip Samp- 
son. She ’s the best friend you have in this 
world.” 

The merry lad’s face sobered, and his manner 
grew very quiet as he remarked : — 

I do appreciate her. Aunt Delight. I don’t 
say much about it, and I do give her endless 
worry. I know it. Every time I do anything 
wrong I think about it — afterward.” 

“ The time to think is — before, sir.” 


78 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Yes. It would be better. But, unfortu- 
nately, my thinker does n’t work that way. Say, 
Auntie ! Will you do something for me ? ” 

That depends. But ,what did you mean by 
saying that it was ^ food ’ kept you late this 
time ? ” 

Wait till I show you ! ” 

He darted from the table and returned at once 
with a dead partridge, and his cap full of black- 
berries. 

See ! These are for Aunt Serapha ! ” 

Game laws were little known and not at all 
heeded in this isolated region, and Aunt Delight 
was too good a housekeeper to be offended by 
this unexpected addition to her larder. 

Why, laddie ! Did you get those yourself ? ” 

Of course. That ’s why I was late. I snared 
that bird down in the long lot, and the berries 
I picked on my way home from the Sharps. 
Oh ! I forgot ! I want to speak to Uncle 
Adair ! ” 

Philip ! come back here and say your 
manners ! ” 

With a laugh, the lad returned to the table, 
took his seat, and gravely inquired, — 

Will you excuse me. Aunt Delight ? ” 
“Certainly,” replied the old lady, graciously. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


79 


and, also rising, hastened away to take care of 
the game and fruit. “ To-morrow that will 
taste nicely to Serapha/' she remarked to Molly 
en route to the ‘^buttery/’ and Molly nodded, 
well pleased. 

Meanwhile Philip had entered the invalid’s 
room, commonly known in that household as 
the Refuge,” and had bowed gracefully over 
the thin hand extended to greet him. It was 
noticeable, plainly, that however gay or even 
impertinent Philip might be to other members 
of the household, he never forgot the deference 
due his helpless aunt. 

His voice was quiet and gentle immediately, 
as she saluted him and he explained : — 

I might have been home earlier, Aunt Sera- 
pha, but you need n’t worry this time. I have n’t 
been in bad company, I assure you. Have you 
told her about Daniel Starbuck yet, Helen ? ” he 
asked, turning toward his cousin, now seated on a 
stool at the foot of her mother’s couch. 

No. She made me wait till everybody was 
in. Here comes Aunt Delight, too, so now I will. 
Or you, rather.” 

You begin. I ’ll finish. You were at school 
when he got there. I was n’t. It ’ll take two 
of us to give him all the credit he deserves.” 


80 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 


Starbuck ? Starbuck ? ” said the Doctor, mus- 
ingly. I don’t recall that name.’^ 

Maybe you have n’t heard it. There ’s a 
step relationship in this case, too ! ” answered 
Philip, with sudden bitterness. 

Nobody spoke for a few seconds ; then Helen 
slipped her hand into Philip’s curls, as his head 
rested against the -edge of his aunt’s lounge, and 
suggested : — 

Dan’s story, Phil. Shall I begin ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ The man’s name is Sharp, Papa, — the same 
one, I think, to whom you sent Phil after school 
about the wood.” 

Oh, yes. Sharp. A hard customer, but still, 
I think, a just man. I ’ve attended them. A 
house full of little Sharps — and some flats — 
with an overworked mother to mind them. 
Seems to me I did hear he married a widow. Is 
it her son you are speaking about ?” 

Yes. He ’s the one too many in that house, 
as I am — ” 

‘^Now, Phil! If this is rny story, do let me 
tell it ! I ’ve been bottling it up ever since school 
was over, and I just can’t keep it in any longer.” 

Fire ahead 1 ” 

She did, eloquently. Daniel’s marvellous at- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 81 

tain merits as an orthographist were introduced, 
by her suddenly propounding to her father : — 

“ Papa, please spell ^ Parallelogrammical ! 

Wh-e-ew ! What 's that to do with this 
Daniel Starbuck?” 

He can spell it I” 

Goodness ! I don't know as I could. Any- 
way I 'm not going to try. But tell your story. 
I’m interested.” 

So were they all. In a moment both young 
tongues were tripping over each other in their 
eagerness to do full credit to the stranger lad 
who had so won both their hearts. 

And now,” finished Philip, I want to ask 
you a favor. Indeed, I ’ve almost promised it in 
your name. You said if you could find a decent 
boy to come and work for his board this winter, 
take care of the cattle, and so on, you’d hire him. 
I want you to hire Dan. Let him come here and 
live and see what sort of people there are in the 
world. Will you ? ” 

Another boy in the house ? Not if I have 
anything to say about it, and I think I have ! ” 
ejaculated Aunt Delight with considerable warmth. 

Now there were many variations to Aunt De- 
light’s “ No.” Helen and Phil knew them each 
and all by heart ; and their spirits sank as they 
6 


82 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


realized that this was one of her most emphatic 
and unchangeable negatives. Also, they knew 
that without the good woman s consent nobody 
would be allowed to take up residence in the old 
Sampson homestead, which was still her own by 
right. 

As if to confirm this unfortunate decision, there 
appeared at that moment in the sitting-room just 
beyond, and glancing gloomily through the open 
doorway, a person who carried depression wher- 
ever she went. She did not now wait for the 
ordinary exchange of civilities, but began at 
once : — 

You’ll harbor a viper. Doctor Adair, if you 
take that terrible boy into your service. I ’ve 
come for you this moment to attend my poor 
little Renew. Horsewhipped, Doctor ! My boy ’s 
been horsewhipped I — by that wild savage from 
the mountain. He has no business in our dis- 
trict, anyway, and he ’ll ruin the school if he 
stays. But he cant stay. He shall not. You ’re 
a trustee, and you ’ll be the first to forbid him 
when you see my child. Come at once. He ’s 
suffering terribly. I don’t know but he may be 
already delirious with the agony ! Will you 
come ? ” 

Professional interest responded instantly to the 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


83 


appeal of suffering. Before the woman's tale was 
half told, Doctor Adair had risen and left the 
room. Mrs. Hapgood, for it was she, followed 
him promptly, and the little party in the Kefuge 
w’^ere left gazing at one another in dismayed 
astonishment. 


CHAPTER IX. 


PHILIP ATTENDS A PATIENT. 

HAT woman ’s a walking kill-joy,” re- 



X marked Aunt Delight, grimly. Her 
clothes fairly smell of a graveyard. Poor old 
Dominie Davidson ! ” 

Why, Delight ! ” remonstrated Mrs. Adair, 
surprised. 

I don’t believe a word of it ! ” exclaimed 
Philip, indignantly. 

‘^Nor I. Daniel Starhuck wouldn’t hurt a fly, 
I saw him step ’way around an angleworm in 
the path to-day, rather than step on it. And he 
was ever so good to little Robbie,” added Helen. 

Silence fell over them then for a few moments, 
which the mother broke by suggesting : — 

A game of checkers, dears. Won’t that make 
the evening pleasant ? Unless there are lessons 
to be prepared.” 

No, Mamma. Papa has forbidden night 
study this year. I’ll play checkers, if Phil 
likes ; or I ’ll get out my patchwork.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 85 

But Phil did n’t care to play. He preferred to 
sit still where he was, with his head resting on 
Aunt Serapha’s cushions, thinking a boy’s thoughts 
of chivalry and devotion toward the unfortunate 
Daniel. 

Well, I don’t care. I like him. So does 
Nell. She does n’t usually take to anybody who ’s 
very wicked. T ’ll stick to him, anyway.” 

“Till you get tired of him, dear?” asked the 
aunt, gently. For Phil’s changeableness was one 
of his greatest faults. He had “ chummed ” with 
every lad in the valley and regretted each intimacy 
more than the others. 

“ No. Not this time. Aunt Serapha. He ’s 
different. He really is. There is n’t anything 
much in those others. They’re well enough — 
for fun. But there ’s something about Dan which 
is well for — earnest.” 

“ Yet you say he ’s awkward and homely.” 

“Yes, when he’s conscious of himself. When 
he gets interested in anything he ’s another sort 
of boy. I think he ’s awfully clever, even if he 
does n’t know anything besides his spelling yet. 
A boy who has pluck enough to study an old 
Dictionary must be a good deal of a boy, don’t 
you think ? ” 

“ And he ’s so kind to animals. If he came 


86 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


here the horses and cows would n’t get handled as 
roughly as they sometimes do.” 

Helen was a true little woman. She, alone, of 
all in the room had seen a swift change come 
over Aunt Delight’s grim features during Mrs. 
Hapgood’s outburst against the young woodlander, 
and knew that it was perfectly natural for the 
old lady to espouse any cause which Ruella Hap- 
good disapproved. 

Loyal to the lad who had been so brave and 
needed friends so much, as she thought, she fol- 
lowed up the slight advantage gained by his 
enemy’s visit and simply suggested the various 
good qualities which she knew would appeal most 
strongly to her Aunt Delight’s heart. 

It was he who brought that oriole’s nest here 
last year. Mamma, for you, — that one over there 
on the looking-glass frame now. He was on a 
load of wood and I did n’t know his name then ; 
but he’d heard about you and your love for pretty 
things, I guess, for he just half threw it at me and 
said : ^ That ’s fer the Doctor’s sick wife. I ’ve 
heern she hankers fer sech things.’ So he must 
be kind-hearted, must n’t he ?” 

Mamma nodded assent, but Aunt Delight 
exclaimed : — 

You innocent little hypocrite, don’t you sup- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 87 

pose I can see through you ? Or that I ’ve noticed 
you and Phil winking at one another this five 
minutes ? Well, you ’re right enough. Always 
stand up for the one that ’s down, till you know 
he deserves his position. There are always plenty 
to befriend those who don’t need it. You want 
Daniel to come, and so does Philip. I don’t. 
That is — 1 did n’t. But — if there is a possibility 
of doing him an injustice, and rather than let that 
funeral-faced woman have her own way, this time 
I might alter my opinion — as an experiment.” 

“ Hurra for the Hapgood ^ way ’ !” shouted 
Phil, gayly. Next time I want to go a-fishing 
I ’ll get her to come up here and tell you how 
dangerous it is. Then you ’ll let me go, you dear 
Auntie full of Delight ! ” 

“ You ’re a saucy boy, Philip Sampson, like 
your father before you ! ” 

Then I can’t help it, you know. It ’s a case 
of heredity, like I heard you all discussing the 
other night. But never mind me. Go on about 
Dan.” 

He could have the room over the carriage 
house,” said the housemistress, thoughtfully. 

He could share mine,” returned Phil, warmly. 
^Hfhe’s my friend, he’s my friend, and that’s 
all there is to that ! ” 


88 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 


Now, look here, laddie. Let ’s talk this mat- 
ter over fair and square. Somehow I feel that 
in taking this stranger lad into our house we are 
doing a very different thing from hiring an ordi- 
nary servant. But what I feel is due to your and 
Nell’s romantic nonsense, and I ’m not going to 
let it influence my outward actions. Daniel must 
come exactly as any other lad 'would come to 
work for his board, with the privilege of attending 
school. He has n’t been used to any luxury and 
he would n’t appreciate it if it was given him. 
Not yet. People do learn amazingly quick to be 
finical enough! No. He is to come here to go 
to school, not to be a playfellow for you — if he 
comes. 

On that condition, and that alone, I may — I 
do not say that I will — but I may give my con- 
sent to the trial. It all depends, now, on what 
the Doctor has to say when he comes home. Poor 
Doctor 1 It ’s a shame to drag him out again to- 
night. He never knows when he can have a 
moment’s peace in his own family.” 

“ He would n’t enjoy a peace — it would n’t be 
peace — that was purchased by the neglect of 
duty,” said Mrs. Adair, quietly ; though to her, 
more than to any of the others, was her husband’s 
absence a disappointment. 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 89 

‘‘Duty ! To that little miserable Hapgood fellow ! 
If he’s sick I’ll be bound it’s for some of his 
own foolishness ! Look here, Philip, can I trust 
you?” 

As your own soul. Aunt Delight ! ” responded 
the lad, dramatically. 

Then go out and harness old Carey and drive 
to the Dominie’s after your uncle. It would be 
a shame to let him walk those two miles home 
again, when he ’s so tired ; and he would n’t let 
Dominie bring him, even if the forgetful man 
remembered to offer.” 

Auntie, I don’t know as I wish to be 
trusted ! ” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“ Not under these circumstances. It ’s a dark 
night. Old Carey hates to be harnessed after 
sundown. It’s a very dark night and a lonely 
road. I ’m only a boy — ” 

“ Who ’d walk ten miles on the darkest night 
ever was for a bit of fun if ’t was going. Come, 
off with you ! ” 

Philip rose, with more pretended than real 
laziness, and left the room ; whereupon the others 
settled to their sewing or talk of household in- 
terests and the evening wore slowly on. 

Meanwhile Philip, having harnessed old Carey, 


) 


90 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

forced that reluctant animal into a trot and drove 
whistling down the valley. 

The night was starless, for the heavy clouds 
intimated rain ; but the horse, once on the way, 
needed little guidance, save to prevent its turn- 
ing into the wrong entrances, as it passed along 
the turnpike. 

Dominie Davidson’s house was a rambling 
white cottage, an aggregate of various additions 
he had made to the original structure, as his taste 
or need required. It stood a bit back from the 
road, at one end of the valley, in the midst of a 
few fields the master called his farm.” 

A little barn, a capacious hennery, and a few 
stacks of hay surrounded the cottage ; from the 
uncurtained windows of which there presently 
shone a cheerful light which announced to Philip 
that he had reached the limit of his journey. 

^ The driveway was soft and grass-grown, the 
night so dark and the lamps within so brightly 
burning that the inmates of the house neither 
heard nor saw his approach, so : — 

I guess I ’ll not let them know either. I ’ll 
just wait outside till Uncle comes out, then sur- 
prise him with this chance to ride home.” 

Accordingly Phil curled up in the bottom of 
the buggy and waited as patiently as he could. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 91 

This wasn’t very long, however, for patience was 
not a strong feature of Philip Sampson’s character. 

When he had exhausted all of it at present 
available, he leaped down from the buggy and 
walked to the open window of the sitting-room, 
whence he heard voices proceeding, and peered 
within. 

There on the master’s own lounge lay Kenew, 
looking rather pale and very martyr-like ; while, 
seated at a near-by table were Dominie Davidson 
and his Uncle Adair. Mrs. Hapgood hovered 
over her suffering son, occasionally bathing his 
forehead with something from a bottle. 

Renew resented these attentions with his usual 
fretfulness, and Philip grew indignant watching 
him. 

I don’t like that woman any better than 
Aunt Delight does, but no son has any business 
to treat any mother so. I ’ll give him a piece 
of my mind the next time he pushes her hand 
off!” 

Poor Phil had lost his own mother early in his 
childhood, and all his fancies of what a mother 
should be were full of chivalry and learned from 
that gentle lady who had taken the lost one’s 
place to him, his Aunt Serapha. 

Almost while he thus reflected, Mrs. Hapgood 


92 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


again bent over her son with a draught of some- 
thing in a glass. But Renew had done with 
being fussed over.” He raised his hand with 
such vehemence as to knock the tumbler from his 
mother’s hand and send its contents spattering 
the floor. 

Now, don’t you bring another old thing near 
me ! Do you hear ? I told you to let me alone, 
and you did n’t pay any attention. I tell you my 
shoulders hurt me so I’m ’most crazy. Now keep 
away from me ! ” 

Goodness, my young friend. You can’t be 
very sick if you can holloa that way ! ” thought 
Phil, and, before he half realized even himself 
what he was doing, he sprang lightly through 
the casement, picked up the fallen glass, and bow- 
ing, offered it to Mrs. Hapgood. 

The promptness of the deed, its gracefulness, 
and the scorching rebuke of the new-comer’s 
glance as he looked upon Renew, were too much 
for Doctor Adair’s self-control. He laughed, and 
the Dominie laughed with him. Even Mrs. 
Hapgood was forced to draw her thin lips into 
the semblance of a smile, and only Renew re- 
sisted the brightening influence of the merry 
Phil. 

Next time you throw glasses at your mother, 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


93 


and I see it, I ’ll break them over your miserable 
head ! ” said the champion, valiantly. 

That lady hastened to interpose : — 

Don’t be harsh wdth him, Philly dear. Surely 
he ’s abundant excuse for his nervousness, seeing 
what he ’s suffered in the hands of that dreadful 
mountaineer ! Just look at his poor shoulders ! ” 
and with maternal solicitude, which this time 
Kenew did not resent, she turned down the sheet 
that covered them and showed the blisters under 
the cooling cloths the doctor had applied. 

Poor woman ! Every word and action was 
a well meant, but utter mistake. In the first 
place, Philip resented the appellation of Philly ” 
— as if I were a sick calf ; ” and he liked 
none to ^‘dear” him, save those whose kinship 
gave them right. He despised a person who 
called bad temper nervousness ; ” he was loyal 
with the enthusiasm of first friendship to the 
abused ^^mountaineer;” and lastly, he saw that 
the blisters so proudly exposed could not have 
been formed by any whip-lash. 

One other little incident leaped into his 
memory, which, coupled with his estimate of 
the sufferer’s mental calibre, made him fairly 
boil with eagerness and indignation. 

Why, Uncle, do you — does Dominie David- 


94 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


son, who has certainly raised enough of them on 
other fellows’ backs to know what they look like, 
— do you suppose for one moment that these are 
welts ? Are they the right shape ? ” 

They are peculiar in shape,” quietly assented 
the physician ; and now Philip understood why 
he had remained so long sitting in ordinary 
converse with the teacher. 

Uncle Adair sees there’s something here 
that ’s not square. I ’ll help him out. I ’m 
awfully glad I came ! ” were the lad’s swift 
thoughts. 

His ^4ielping out” was promptly direct and 
characteristic. 

See here, Renew Hapgood ! You can pull 
the wool over your mother’s eyes, maybe over 
your uncle’s, but you can’t over mine. You 
told me awhile back that you ’d never take 
another licking from the Dominie, even if your 
mother did say you’d have to go to school. 
You said you’d fix it, and now you think you 
have ; but you ’re a bit mistaken ! I have n’t 
gone pottering round in a doctor’s office to learn 
just nothingT 

Then he turned suddenly to the astonished 
Mrs. Hapgood, and demanded : — 

^‘Will you tell me, madam, did you send 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 


95 


Renew over to Uncle’s house — just when you 
knew he’d gone to Carthage — after those — ” 
But Renew was off the lounge, his hand over 
Philip’s mouth, choking back to silence the words 
that would have been uttered, with a marvellous 
strength and ferocity for a lad who had been so 
ill but a moment before. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE BITER BIT. 


EAR, dear ! Don’t, lads, don’t ! Why, 



LJ this is dreadful ! My lamb, you ’ll kill 
yourself by this excitement ! ” remonstrated poor 
Mrs. Hapgood, seriously alarmed. 

Not so the Dominie nor Doctor. The former 
was, indeed, distressed that a schoolboy fight ” 
should take place within his own sitting-room, 
but he had n’t taught boys for so many years to 
be frightened by them now. He quietly waited 
till Philip had thrown off the assaulting Renew, 
and was beginning to speak again, then raised 
his thin hand, and remarked : — 

One at a time. Renew, tell your story.” 

Mrs. Hapgood advanced and threw a blanket 
over her son, then guided him, this time un- 
resisting, back to the lounge. 

Compose yourself, dear child, then obey your 
uncle.” 

She, too, had seen that sudden decision grow 
upon the benignant face of her benefactor, and 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 97 

knew that there were times when even his spirit 
asserted itself. 

‘^Well, there ain’t — there isn’t, I mean — 
anything to tell but what you know. I went to 
school after Uncle with old Meg, this afternoon 
— I had such a dreadful headache I could n’t 
go this morning — and the first thing I knew 
that hulking mountaineer jumped through the 
window and began to horsewhip me. He ’d got 
hold of the stage horsewhip somehow, and he 
thought he ’d be smart, I guess. I begged him 
to stop, and kept backing off, but he would n’t. 
I yelled to Uncle, and he would n’t do a thing, 
till, finally, when I was about killed, I broke 
away and ran into the schoolhouse ; then the 
fellow ran away, too. He came back though, 
and tried to smooth it over with the Dominie, 
but he did n’t succeed. That ’s all. He tore my 
coat all to flinders, and blistered my shoulders, 
just as you see. And all I wish is, he had ’em 
on his own body — then he ’d take care how he 
tackled other fellows again ! And I say, if he 
goes to school, I sha’n’t ! ” 

There, there, my darling, don’t excite your- 
self any more. Of course Uncle Davidson and 
Doctor Adair, as trustee and teacher, will see 
that it ’s impossible to allow such a ruffian 
7 


98 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

in a school of decent children. Isn’t it so, 
Doctor ? ” 

Philip was well-nigh beside himself with im- 
patience, but he was trying hard to be always, 
under circumstances which tried his temper or 
otherwise, that which his Aunt Serapha had 
desired him to be, — a gentleman ; so he bit his 
lip to restrain the leaping words until the lady 
had ceased. 

Now, Philip, your side of the story ; ” re- 
marked the trustee, ignoring the question to 
himself. 

That whole yarn is a yarn — and no truth. 
Renew did get a terrible thrashing. He did get 
his jacket torn. Dan Starbuck did both. Why ? 
Because that coward there was ill-treating old 
^ Megatherium ’ and saucing his uncle. Domi- 
nie had been kind to Dan, and Dan ’s not the 
boy to forget a kindness. He loves animals 
better than folks, he says, mostly; and when 
he asked Renew to stop misbehaving, and he 
wouldn’t, he just naturally thrashed him. But 
he did n’t raise those blisters. Spanish fly did 
that 1 I think you must have recognized them. 
Uncle!” 

Renew began to speak, but Dominie Davidson 
interposed : — 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


99 


Philip, this is a serious accusation. Substan- 
tiate it if you can.” 

Easily enough. Everybody in the whole val- 
ley, all the children I mean, know that Renew 
hates school and you and everything he ought to 
like. He ’s bound to run away and be a sailor. 
He ^s told us all he would n’t go to school this 
year, no matter what happened. That if you 
folks insisted upon it he ’d find a way out. So 
he came, when Uncle was gone, in terrible haste 
for some Spanish-fly plasters. Uncle Adair often 
lets me help wait on the patients who come for 
such things when he ’s away, and I did n’t think 
it anything unusual. He said his mother was 
very ill and needed them right away and I 
needn’t say anything about it. She knew how 
to use them and so on. Still he asked me 
so many questions about them and, finally, 
how quick they ’d raise a blister, that after 
a while I thought it was funny. I forgot it 
though, till now. Now I’ll tell you what I 
think!” 

^^And I’ll tell you,” interrupted Mrs. Hap- 
good, angrily, ^Hhat you are imputing dreadful 
things to my innocent boy 1 A suffering — ” 

Beg pardon,^ he innocent? Look at him. 
I ’ll save him the trouble of talking. He thought 


100 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

he ’d get ahead of the Dominie at first, and make 
you think he was so badly treated at school that 
you’d let him go to sea. Now, he doesn’t care 
half so much about that as to punish poor Daniel 
Starbuck for proving himself a champion and a 
hero.” 

All eyes turned toward the unhappy Renew, 
who had dropped his face upon the pillows to 
hide the shame it betrayed. Like most of his 
sort, when driven to bay, he was ready to confess 
his guilt. 

The master’s voice broke the awkward silence 
which followed Phil’s speech. 

Renew, which side of this story is the right 
one ? Do not be afraid to speak. You shall have 
justice — full justice.” 

Well — I don’t see what great harm there 
was ! I ’ve hurt myself worse — worse ’an any- 
body else ! I wish — I wish you ’d all go home ! 
I — I — ” But the voice from the pillows was 
too muffled to be heard again, even if further 
attempt to speak was made. 

Comment was unnecessary. The Doctor was a 
man of few words, at the best, and there seemed 
absolutely nothing more to say, beyond the pro- 
fessional advice. 

^^He certainly is suffering, Mrs. Hapgood. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 101 

Continue the dressing of the blisters as I have 
begun, and — Good-evening, all.” 

Carey knew the homeward way and travelled 
it briskly, but neither the Doctor nor Philip felt 
like talking till they had quite left the Dominie’s 
home behind them, when the former broke into a 
hearty laugh, and remarked : — 

Well, nephew, I don’t know whether you ’ll 
make the better lawyer or physician ; but you ’ve 
certainly won your case.” 

“ Then you did know there was some tomfool- 
ery there, did n’t you ? ” 

The first lesson a doctor learns is to keep his 
own counsel. It was n’t the professional matter 
I was thinking of. It was your plea that Daniel, 
this hero of many adventures, should come and 
live at Sampson House.” 

Then you ’ll hire him ? ” questioned the lad, 
delightedly. 

As far as my ability goes, yes. Yet you 
know that we always defer to Aunt Delight. If 
she says ^ yes,’ also, then — ” 

Then he ’s already hired ! Oh ! Uncle, what 
a happy boy he ’ll be ! May I ride up there in 
the morning and tell him ? ” 

^‘It will be better to wait. His father will, 
probably, come himself with the wood you or- 


102 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


dered for me and I will talk with him about the 
matter. Even though Daniel may not like his 
guardian we must not forget that Mr. Sharp is 
such, and it will be all the happier for the boy if 
his departure from his home is made with the 
full approval of his family.” 

“ But — what if Sharp should object ? ” 

Mr. Sharp, Phil.” 

Oh ! bother ! Beg pardon. Mister Sharp, 
then. He looks as if he ’d object to anything 
which promised pleasure to anybody else. He ’s 
a regular old curmudgeon ! ” 

And you ’re a hot-tempered, too enthusiastic 
lad ; who needs a few whacks from ‘ common 
sense hammer’ to lick you into shape. But a 
lad I love, my Phil ! Always remember that. I 
think Dan’s coming, if he comes, will be a good 
thing for us all. Even the mother may gain a 
new interest by it. Only, take care that there 
are not too many ‘ larks.’ ” 

They were presently at home, and Philip 
offered to put out old Carey for the night. Be- 
lieving that a little labor was good for every- 
.body, and conscious that he never shirked his 
own share of it, the uncle accepted the offer and 
went in, leaving Phil alone to meditate upon 
their evening’s experience. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 103 

It was quiet in the old stable and dark. 
Whether this had anything to do with the 
matter or not, in a very few minutes Master 
Philip found himself brooding over the possibility 
that this thing upon which he had set his heart 
— having Daniel Starbuck for a companion — 
might not be accomplished. 

The more he brooded the less probable the 
realization of his wish appeared. 

When he finds out anybody else wants him, 
old Sharp ’ll want Dan himself. He ’s strong 
and willing. Sharp isn’t going to let him out 
of his clutches so easily. That ’s all he meant 
this afternoon, when he said Dan could n’t go to 
school again. He ’s found he could n’t spare his 
work. Now — I — ” 

He paused so long, unharnessing, that Carey 
whinnied impatiently. 

Hurrah ! I ’ll do it ! ” cried Phil, softly, and 
slipped the harness off only to slip a bridle on 
poor Carey’s astonished head. 

An hour passed, yet Philip had not come in. 
Helen put up her patchwork, bade her mother 
good-night and went to bed. 

Aunt Delight’s ears had been strained to hear 
the lad’s footsteps, and failing, had rejoiced to 
hear, instead, the cheerful converse of the Doc- 
tor and his wife. 


104 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

“ Serapha is n’t thinking about the boy, for 
once, thank goodness ! else she ’d be asking for 
him. Likely he ’s in the kitchen with Susan and 
Molly, but I ’ll just say ‘ good-night ’ myself, 
and slip away before I ’m questioned,” thought 
the old house mistress, and did so. 

Yet Phil was not in the kitchen, and the 
women had left it dark and in order for the 
night. 

Miss Sampson struck a match and lighted the 
oil lamp ; of that sort then in use, before the 
days of kerosene. Picking up its soft cotton 
wick with the point of a hair-pin she adjusted 
her spectacles and sat grimly down to wait the 
absentee’s return. 

Yet if he could have seen her face at that 
moment this return would have been long de- 
layed, for it wore its most forbidding aspect, 
which no amount of cajolery would have altered. 

There is a limit beyond which patience 
ceases to be a virtue, and I’ve reached that 
limit,” remarked Aunt Delight, unfolding her 
knitting. 


CHAPTER XI. 


DANIEL TURNS COWARD. 

T T 7ELL, Auntie — I was after — a ‘ lark ’ — 
V V and I — caught it ! Did n’t I ? ” 

Then Philip went off in a faint, and Helen ran 
away weeping, believing he had died. 

The whole valley had been alarmed, and every 
able-bodied man who could do so had turned out 
to aid in the search. Trouble in the Doctor’s 
household was trouble in all ; for into all he had 
gone many and many a time, carrying help and 
sympathy. 

The search lasted for many hours ; thirty-six 
had passed since Aunt Delight sat down to wait 
in the empty kitchen for the return of the giddy 
youth upon whom her warmest affections were 
secretly set, though openly she reprimanded him 
a dozen times a day. 

Then Daniel found him, — Daniel, who had come 
to the Sampson home early in the morning of the 
second day of the school, driving an ox team and 
bringing the desired load of wood. 


106 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


But, though he had himself selected and heaped 
the wagon with the choicest sticks his step-father’s 
pile contained, nobody paid any attention to this 
fact ; but each person he met as he advanced along 
the driveway from the turnpike to the great house 
put the same question to him : — 

Have you seen anything of Philip ? Did you 
know that Philip Sampson had been out all 
night ? ” 

Daniel did not know, nor did he understand 
just what it meant, until he came where Miss 
Sampson was pacing restlessly up and down the 
broad veranda, her cap awry, her white hair tum- 
bling about her shoulders, and her energetic hands 
expending their force in a nervous clasping and 
unclasping which spoke volumes for their owner’s 
condition. 

As soon as he drew in sight, with his skilful 
gee-hawing” of the oxen, swinging ponderously 
from side to side, and the dismal creaking of the ill- 
greased cart upon the crisp air. Aunt Delight cried 
out that same puzzling question which had been 
hurled at him all along the route, since he had left 
the mountain and come among the valley folk : 
Have you seen Philip ? ” 

No. I hain’t seen nobody. Ma’am. What ’s 
— what ’s the matter ?” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 107 

“ Matter ! you — Are you Daniel ? ’’ 

“ Yes, Ma’am.” 

Then you Te the matter, I believe ! And if he 
is n’t found I shall wish you ’d never been born.” 

This was amazing, even to old Susan, who 
followed her mistress about in the vain hope 
of administering comfort. 

Laws, now. Miss Delight ! I ain’ done gib 
him up, yet. Dem what ’s bo’n to be hung doan’ 
nevah get dwowned ; an’ I ain’ seed Massa Philip 
in no place so tight he ain’ twistin’ out again. 
He ’ll come back all right, honey, he sutney 
will.” 

All the color had left Daniel’s sunbrowned face. 
He had come to the valley that morning full of 
eager hope and thinking only of this wonderful 
new friend he had found yesternight; and this 
was his greeting ! 

He left his team to follow its own will, and 
walked swiftly to the veranda’s edge. His fear 
and grief lent a sudden dignity to his bearing, and 
he no longer slouched, but stood alert, ready for 
action : — 

If you ’ll be so good as to tell me what you, 
an’ everybody means, I ’ll be obleeged to ye. I 
ain’t seen your Philip not sence afore sundown 
last night. He was up our way then, a-tellin’ 


108 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Sharp ’bout this here wood. What ’s happened 
him?” 

That ’s more than I know — than anybody 
does. This is it, all the story : — 

He went out on a professional visit with his 
uncle later than the hour you mention, and came 
home with the Doctor. He stayed in the barn to 
put up the horse for the night and has not been 
seen since. Carey, the horse, came back here 
about daybreak with her bridle hanging broken 
from her head. She had on no saddle, but Philip 
often rode without one. He had unharnessed her, 
therefore, and gone off again on her back. 
Where ? We think in pursuit of yourself. He 
took a fancy to you, it seems, and had asked the 
Doctor to hire you. Doctor had said he would, if 
your step-father would consent to spare you. 
Philip didn’t believe Mr. Sharp would do this, 
and our supposition is that he started off on an 
impulse to tell you, and — I don’t know any more. 
It’s all guess-work. Only the fact — Philip is 
lost.” 

No, Ma’am. He ain’t. He sha’n’t be ! I tell 
you I ’ll find him. He can’t have gone many 
miles away, an’ I ’ll scour every inch o’ the earth, 
plain land an’ woods, but I ’ll find an’ fetch him 
back!” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 109 

Do that, Daniel, and win our eternal grati- 
tude. The lad is wild — a wee bit wild, but 
aye so bonny ! ” 

I T1 find him. Ma’am. I will.” 

That was all he said. Without even glancing 
toward the team, standing patiently behind him, 
he started off at a swinging pace and presently 
vanished from sight. 

He kept his word. Twenty-four hours later, 
just as the sun was rising, he staggered up to 
Sampson House and deposited the half-conscious 
Philip on its threshold, then sank down breath- 
less, with only strength enough left to reach his 
long arm toward the door and give a feeble rap. 

The door opened instantly, and Philip himself 
looked up and spoke. 

Kind arms caught up and carried both lads into 
the great living-room, though Daniel protested as 
vio-orously as he could against this treatment, and 
ejaculated, brokenly : — 

Jest tend ter him. I ’m all right, only — a 
little — mite thirsty.” 

Old Susan ran to him with a cup of steaming 
coffee in her hand, and poor Daniel quaffed the 
most delicious draught he had ever tasted. 

Hmm. That ’s nice. That sets a feller up 
ag’in,” he remarked by way of thanks, and he 


110 THE LITTLE RED SOHOOLHOUSE. 

was, indeed, so well set up ’’ that by the time 
Aunt Delight returned to the room, after having 
put the other lad to bed, he was able to* answer 
her running inquiries as promptly as she put 
them. 

Where did you find him ? Are n’t you almost 
dead yourself ? How could you carry him — did 
you carry him all the way from the woods down 
here ? Did n’t you meet anybody to help you ? 
Tell me — quick!” 

Daniel took the tangle of questions and un- 
ravelled it backward. 

No. I did n’t meet nobody. They’ve looked 
all over the nigh ground an’ had gone further. I 
carried him — ’t wa’ n’t so fur — from the edge 
o’ your own bush lot. He ’s considable hefty, but 
I ’m heftier. That ’s how I done it. If I ’d had 
anything t’ eat ’t would n’t a ben nothin’. 
’T wa’ n’t anyhow. Now, I guess, I ’ll be movin’. 
Do you happen to know. Ma’am, what ’s become 
o’ th’ oxen ? ” 

Daniel rose as if to depart, but Miss Sampson’s 
hand was on his shoulder. She felt how damp it 
was, that the cotton blouse had soaked its fill of 
dew and perspiration, and how the great lad’s 
body quivered through all its length from the 
fasting and exhaustion. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. Ill 

Team ? Whose team ? Who ’d bother about 
anybody’s team when Philip was lost ? There, 
don’t look so worried. I presume it ’s all right. 
Your father, or step-father, was down here yester- 
day, and the Doctor made all arrangements for 
your remaining here, if — you both came hack 
again. So just step out into the kitchen, where 
Susan has a hot breakfast waiting, and tell me all 
the rest between times. After you ’ve eaten I ’ll 
get you some dry clothes, and by that time I think 
Phil will be ready to see you. It was only a faint, 
you know, this morning ; and the Doctor can find 
nothing worse than a strained ankle the matter. 
Except, of course, there is the added weakness 
from want of food and exposure. But — that 
won’t hurt him. He ought to be punished for 
giving us all so much anxiety.” 

Daniel was surprised at the alteration in his 
hostess’ manner. Philip lost had been Philip 
an angel ; Philip restored was Philip as full of 
faults as ever. 

He followed the lady into the great sunny 
kitchen, the largest and cheeriest apartment he 
had ever seen ; but he felt as if he could never 
dare to eat before the watchful eyes of Susan 
or Molly, who stared at him in open admiration. 
He looked about him helplessly, seeking a place 


112 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


whither he could flee, and Aunt Delight’s ready 
tact fathomed the difficulty. Once she had been 
shy herself, and she knew the symptoms. 

Here, you Molly ! Just take that cup of 
cocoa up to Mrs. Adair. Why has n’t it gone 
before ? Tell her that everything is quite all 
right again, and that as soon as he has eaten 
his breakfast and freshened himself a bit, I will 
bring the ^ Hero ’ up to see her. Susan, go 
wring another pullet’s neck and get some broth 
a-stewing. Don’t you know that Master Philip 
must have plenty of nourishment ? ” 

Left alone with Miss Sampson, Daniel’s ease 
of manner — what little he possessed — speedily 
returned. They were both straightforward peo- 
ple, and the odor of the food banished his last 
remains of bashfulness. He fell upon his break- 
fast with an avidity which did Aunt Delight’s 
soul good, and he managed between mouthfuls 
to reply to her still numerous questions. 

Yes, Ma’am. ’T was in the Devil’s Ditch I 
found him. That ’s right up yender on your 
own land, where ’t seemed as if you could n’t a 
helped bearin’ of him callin’. But I ’ve noticed 
that always. If a body gets lost in the moun- 
tings it’s gen’ally right to hum, so to speak. 
Philip, he ’d wandered all over the hills, a-gettin’ 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 113 

confuseder an’ confuseder, an’ Carey, she’d lit 
out fer her own stable soon ’s Philip tumbled off 
her back. ’T ain’t sech a terr’ble deep ditch, if 
he had n’t confused himself ; but it ’s steep ’s 
a steeple, an’ rocky ! It ’s smoother ’n a bald 
head, all up an’ down the sides, them rocks 
is. So, once he was in it he could n’t get 
out. Jest had to stay there till somebody hauled 
him.” 

He might have died, — but for you ! ” re- 
marked Aunt Delight, with a return of tender 
anxiety. 

Oh ! no. I reckon somebody ’d V heered 
him, — if he had n’t starved, like, first. A feller 
kinder loses heart, you see, when he ain’t et 
nothin’ fer a day an’ a half. Besides, I callate 
’t Philip cares ruther more fer his victuals ’n 
some does.” 

Eightly guessed, Daniel ! He ’s a wonderful 
boy for good living ! ” and this time Aunt De- 
light’s laugh rang out so heartily that Susan ran 
in, chuckling in sympathy with it, and forgetful 
of the recently beheaded fowl still dripping in 
her hand. 

Laws, honey ! It done do my ole hea’t good 
to heah dat ! Reckon t’ings allays does tu’n out 
fo’ de bes’, Missy. See dat capon ! I done 


114 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


didn’t get de pullet. I reckoned, long’s we 
had n’t no fattened calf, one ob dese yere capons 
’d be jest de cbeckah ! ” 

But, Susan ! That ’s not only sacrilegious, 
but disobedient ! I distinctly told you one of 
the pullets. Those capons are for Serapha 
alone.” 

Old Susan was wholly unabashed. 

Laws, honey ! What ’s de differ ? You 
know, yo’self. Miss Seraph’, she done druther 
see Massa Phil eat dis yere bu’d ’an eat it herself. 
Ya, ya. Dat ’s so.” 

And Susan went chuckling out again, to pluck 
and stew the dainty fowl before Miss Sampson 
should forbid her. 

It was all a wonderland and a wonder life to 
the keen-eyed Daniel, — the great house, by far 
the richest in all that countryside, and the simple 
— but to him luxurious — habits of the people 
who dwelt in it. 

For Sampson House was indeed a fine home- 
stead, and dated back to the Revolution. Its 
first owner had selected the site with rare dis- 
cretion, on a little rise of land, a sort of spur 
from the mountains behind, which commanded 
a magnificent view all up and down the valley. 

As a matter of security against the Indians, 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 115 

the original portion of the house had been built 
strongly of stone ; and to this original many addi- 
tions had been made, yet each in keeping with 
the first plan. Time and increasing wealth had 
for generations beautified and enriched all the 
surroundings ; and though at the date of this 
story the family fortunes had greatly diminished, 
the old homestead still stood to all the valley 
people as a representation of the best a home 
might be. 

To Daniel it was a revelation ; and he fol- 
lowed Miss Sampson through the long halls to 
a room she assigned him in the kitchen part, 
with a feeling of awe constantly growing in 
his mind. 

When the lady left him alone, and he exam- 
ined the plain suit of clothing she had provided 
for his use, wonder reached its climax. 

‘‘ Swidgey corum ! SWID-GEY — CO — 
RUM ! Be I me, or be I somebody else ? 
Well — ” 

But he couldn’t express himself, and he sat 
down gingerly upon the edge of a chair, the 
better to collect his wits. 

They came to him presently, for he was abun- 
dantly endowed in saving common-sense.” 

Sho ! Ain’t no call fer me to be so shook 


116 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


up. ’T ain’t nothin’ but a house, an’ they ain’t 
nothin’ but folks. They’re treatin’ me square, 
an’ all I ’ve to do is square ’em back ag’in. An’ 
I ’ll do it, sure ’s my name is Dan’l ! ” 

Yet all his tremors returned when just outside 
his door there came a hurried, gentle tap, and 
the sound of a girlish voice, crying : — 

Oh, Daniel ! You dear, dear Daniel ! Do 
come right out as quick as you can ! I can’t 
wait to kiss you, and tell you how much I 
love you for bringing home my darling, darling 
Phil ! ” 

Kiss him ! Love him ! — that dainty, fragile 
piece of girlhood, that he would no more dare to 
touch than he would a china doll ! 

‘‘Wall, 1 guess not! Not if I can help my- 
self 1 I ’d sooner face a mad steer 1 ” 

Helen’s summons was repeated, with a patient 
insistence which it was terribly hard to resist, yet 
impossible to obey. Daniel was unused to girls 
— such girls. How did he know that she might 
not suddenly open the door and appear before 
him ? 

The coveted suit of clothes still lay untouched 
upon the snowy counterpane. He cast one 
hasty, regretful glance upon them, and a second 
one sought some avenue of escape. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 117 
The window ! ’’ 

Then, as the tap-tap-tapping still continued, 
he made a dive for the open sash, and, without 
waiting to see whither it led, leaped headlong 
through the aperture. 


CHAPTER XII. 


EXCHANGING CONFIDENCES. 

Q HO, sho ! Hull ! Wha — wha — Sho ! 

Oh, my soul ! ” 

Susan fell sprawling over backwards upon 
the floor of the pretty arbor-kitchen, a grape-vine 
covered veranda, where she was busily plucking 
the fat capon against the delicate ‘‘brile’' for 
her restored prodigal. 

The basket flew one way, the downy feathers 
another, and some into the cook’s capacious 
mouth, wide open to remonstrate against this 
sudden onslaught from above. 

Daniel picked himself up out of the debris of 
lattice-work, grape-leaves, negress, and chicken, 
and started to flee. 

But Susan’s fat hands grasped his loose trouser- 
legs, and prevented. 

Heah, you, whoevah yo’ be ! He’p me up ! 
Oh, my back ’s done broke ! ” 

Considerably shattered himself, his blouse torn 
upon the crashing slats of the arbor through 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


119 


which he had projected himself from the window 
above, his own mop of hair decorated with 
feathers, a long scratch on one cheek, he was 
a sorry-looking object indeed. But he couldn’t 
well refuse the aid which was entreated, and he 
seized Susan so vigorously by her fat shoulders 
that she yelled again ; and this outcry brought not 
only Molly from her pantry, but Miss Sampson 
and the Doctor himself to the scene. 

“ Susan ! Susan 1 What in the world do you 
mean by all this noise ? ” 

Noise, honey? Well, 1 reckon you done 
make consid’able racket yo’se’f, if you meet up 
wid a boy like dis yere ! He doan’ eben know 
’nough to walk down a stairs, but must go 
hingin’ hisse’f clean fru a window plump on my 
back ! I done conclude it ’s broke, ain’ it, Doctah ? ” 

“ Well, since you ’re still able to step around 
so lively, I conclude not,” replied the laughing 
physician. 

They were all laughing then, all but poor 
Daniel, who would gladly have continued on his 
downward way clear into the cellar, or into the 
earth itself, if by that means he might have 
escaped the presence of that amused group. 

Through the window ! ” exclaimed Miss 
Sampson ; and then the lad did bolt, — straight 


120 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


past his would-be friends, out into the barn and 
up into the loft, where for a long time he 
remained hidden, and oblivious to all things. 

For he was worn out by his long search and 
hours of wakefulness, and his head had scarcely 
touched the heap of hay, into which he had 
burrowed, before he fell fast asleep. 

Doctor Adair followed the lad’s flight from the 
house with an amused but kindly glance. 

Poor fellow, he ’s half-dazed by fatigue, and so 
bashful he ’s a torment to himself. He ’ll get a 
nap and wake up in a different frame of mind. 
Let nobody disturb him nor make any reference 
to this ludicrous accident, when he does appear ; 
else he ’ll surely take to the woods again, and we 
shall have lost our ‘ Hero.’ ” 

With which he pinched Helen’s cheek mis- 
chievously, as she joined the group, and laughed 
at her amazed question : 

Auntie, did n’t you put that boy in the west 
shed chamber ? ’Cause if you did he ’s gone, and 
he must have — ” 

Departed by the window ! I wonder why, 
Nell.” 

I ’m sure I don’t know. I just went to tell 
him how crazy I was to see him, and — But 
what are you all laughin’ at ? ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


121 


Of course there was no school for Helen that 
day ; and it proved a long one, with Philip a pris- 
oner — and a contentedly sleeping one — in his 
own room ; the mother taking absolute rest from 
her anxious vigil ; and everybody else in that 
silent, irritable frame of mind which commonly 
follows unusual excitement. 

When the day had nearly waned, and Daniel 
still in hiding, the girl begged permission to seek 
and bring him again into the house. For just 
think how hungry he must be. Aunt Delight ! 
He has n’t had anything all day except his break- 
fast. If it were Phil — ” 

He ’d be hunting up his own provision ! Well, 
run along. Only take care you don’t scare him 
into jumping out of the barn window this time. 
That would be a more dangerous leap than the 
other, and he would n’t have Susan’s fat back to 
break his fall upon.” 

I ’ll take care. He sha’n’t be so silly, again. 
That big, brave, queer Daniel ! ” 

So when the woodlander finally roused from his 
long slumber it was to see Helen’s face peeping 
in at him through the beams of the hayloft, and 
to hear her asking : — 

Are n’t you rested yet, Daniel ? ’Cause Philip 
is asking for you every little while. He ’s asleep 


122 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

again just now — seems as if you boys have to 
rest a great deal, does n’t it ? — but he ’ll wake 
soon, then he ’ll want you. Are n’t you hungry ? 
See, I ’ve coaxed Molly for this piece of pound cake, 
and I ’ve brought two peaches from Papa’s pet tree, 
and we ’re going to have a picnic up here in the 
old loft, just you and I. I want you to tell me 
the whole story — every single word. Will you ? ” 

Daniel sat up, picked the hay out of his tumbled 
hair, observed how quiet and matter-of-fact the 
intruder now was, and finally evolved : — 

Yes.”- 

That ’s a bargain. But you must eat first. 
There. That ’s your piece. I guess it ’s as large 
as this one. Anyway, if it is n’t it will have to 
do, for just as I came by Dap’s stall he reached 
out and took a nibble from this slice. So I ’ll eat 
that myself. Are n’t these lovely peaches ? Did 
you ever eat a peach before ? Papa says there are 
very few will grow in this place, but he ’s trying 
an experiment with different sorts, and this kind 
is just de-li — cious!” 

She sat herself down, “ Turk fashion,” and 
planted her elbows on her knees and her white 
teeth in the rosy cheek of the rare fruit. That 
effectually banished stiffness, and as Daniel sam- 
pled his own peach, he remarked : — 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 123 


Once.” 

Where?” 

Ma brung it hum from the County Fair. 
She went. It was two years ago. ’ D you 
ever ? ’’ 

This was fine, Helen reflected. He is n’t as 
bashful as he pretends.” Aloud she replied : — 

No, not yet. Papa says he may — perhaps, 
just perhaps — he may take Phil and me — and 
now you, of course — this fall. If he can’t, if the 
folks will get sick and keep him at home, as they 
generally do, there ’ll be other years, you know. 
So it does n’t matter, does it ? ” 

^^No.” 

Eat your cake, boy.” 

He obeyed her in silence. It was delicious, and 
in this instance, at. least, virtue was its own 
reward. Even he thawed out sufficiently to pay 
a slight tribute : — 

It ^s likely, if I do say it.” 

Helen knit her brows, but guessed at his 
meaning. 

^^Yes. Susan is a splendid cook. But now, 
tell. Everybody is too tired and busy in the 
house, and I must hear it all.” 

Thus adjured, Daniel briefly narrated the story 
of his determined search for the luckless Philip, 


124 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

and when he had finished, inquired, in his own 
turn : — 

‘‘Won’t you tell me all they is about him? 
You said he had a ‘ step,’ too, an’ I ’d like to 
hear. If you don’t mind.” 

“ Not in the least. I ’m delighted to tell. I 
can talk about that precious boy all day. He ’s 
my brother-cousin, you know.” 

She fixed herself more comfortably and re- 
sumed : — 

“ There is n’t anything to tell. Only — his 
‘step’ is a mother. Uncle Philip — all the 
Sampsons ever were have been Philips, you see, 
and Phil’s father is Philip senior, now. Where 
was I ? Oh ! Well, Uncle Philip’s wife, Phil’s 
mother, died when he was a baby — Phil, of 
course. And two years ago he married again. 
Up till that time those two, ‘ big and little Phil,’ 
as Auntie Delight called them, had just lived for 
each other. Uncle Phil is a great politician, a 
‘ statesman,’ Auntie says, and he has plenty of 
money and is always travelling and seeing things. 
He ’s a ‘ Representative,’ that does something in 
Washington; or he has been. Now he isn’t, 
not there. He ’s a ‘ Minister ’ to some country 
in Europe, I guess it ’s Austria. Maybe it ’s Prus- 
sia, but it ’s some queer place ever so far away. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


125 


To get to it he had to go across the ocean. Papa 
says it took weeks to get there, and it will be a 
long time before he comes home again. Are you 
tired ? Shall I tell any more ? ” 

Yes, yes ! Don't leave off plumb in the 
middle on ’t." 

All right. Only, if I tire you, let me know, 
will you ? " 

Sartain.” 

That ’s about all, anyway. Before Uncle 
Philip married my new aunt he used to come out 
here every summer and stay awhile at the old 
home; but after that he didn’t. By and by 
he wrote for Papa to go to his house, away to 
the city of New York, and when Papa came 
back he brought little Phil with him. The new 
mother did n’t like boys at all, and Phil thought 
she took up too much of Uncle Phil’s spare time, 
so he had n’t any more fun with his father, ever. 
Mamma thinks it would all have come right, 
will come right yet. Only, you see, the Govern- 
ment sent Uncle Phil away on this Minister busi- 
ness, and Aunt Josephine declared up and down 
that Europe wasn’t the place for a growing boy. 
She could n’t have the care of him. Uncle Phil 
agreed with a part of her, — of what she said, I 
mean. He did n’t want his son to grow up any- 


126 THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 

thing else but a straight, out and out American. 
So — that 's all. Phil 's here, and is to stay here, 
studying with Dominie Davidson and ^ learning 
to be a true-hearted gentleman,’ as his father 
says. Till by and by, I suppose, he ’ll go away to 
college — and — But I won’t think about that. 
He ’s here now ; and he ’s all the time doing 
naughty things, and then right away something so 
good he ’ll make us all love him more than ever. 
You see ! For a week or two now he ’ll be what 
he calls ‘ heavenly sweet ; ’ then he ’ll forget and 
do something he ought n’t. Now, Dan, tell me 
all about yourself.” 

They ain’t nothin’. I ’m only Dan’l. I was 
born in the woods an’ have allays lived in ’em. 
I like. ’em, too, only I want to I’arn book I’arnin’. 
Ma, she was a widder. I don’t remember my 
Pa. She married Sharp, an’ I hate him. I 
like her, though, an’ I kinder like the young 
ones. They tease me awful sometimes, an’ jine 
in with their Pa. But mebbe ’bwas my fault, 
partly. I did n’t like him, an’ I did n’t try. I ’ve 
enj’yed sassin’ him more’n anything else I done, 
an’ — But, somehow, seein’ I ’m shut of him 
now, I — I sorter wish I hadn’t. But he hadn’t 
no right ter lick me so often, I ’low.” 

‘‘ Maybe he thought he was doing right. Mas- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 127 

ter says he must n’t ^ spare the rod and spoil the 
child ’ every time he whips anybody in school.” 

’D he ever lick you ? ” demanded Daniel, with 
sudden fierceness. 

Me ? Why — what a notion! No, indeed. 
Why should he ? Nobody ever struck me in 
my life. I don’t think I could — Why, Dan, I 
could n’t bear it ! I think it would make me as 
ugly as sin I ” 

The idea of corporal punishment as connected 
with herself was so strange, so repulsive to the 
sensitive girl that for a few seconds she sat gaz- 
ing abstractedly into the depths of the loft, 
trying to make this horrible suggestion seem 
possible. 

Suddenly her gaze came back to fix itself on 
the face of the homely, ill-used lad before her. 
The indignities from which she shrank in terror 
he had daily endured. The poverty and barren 
misery of his childhood was mentally pictured in 
sharp contrast to the happiness and richness of 
her own ; and the longing that is instinctive in 
every womanly soul, young or old, to comfort 
and aid, was developed in hers then. 

She leaned forward and tried to take the boy’s 
great hands in her own small ones and exclaimed, 
earnestly : — 


128 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

^^But all that is past, Dan, dear. You must 
rub it all out and set a new sum on your slate, 
and there must n’t be any anger or hatred or 
bitterness in it. It was only the ignorance made 
it. Dominie says, often and often, that ignorance 
brutalizes and wisdom makes folks gentle. That ’s 
what he meant when he read the first morning : 
^ Therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting 
get understanding.’ 

I ’m just getting ^ understanding ’ — a little 
bit — out of your experience. But I ’m not going 
to forget it, soon. I ’ll help you all I can, and 
you must help me. So ’ll Phil. He ’s a darling, 
if he is bad sometimes, and he ’ll be awake by 
this time and want you. So ’ll Mamma. Let ’s 
go down and to the house. I’ll fetch you a 
comb and towel and you can make yourself 
tidy in the men’s room, off the carriage house 
there. Then, if you ’ll come around the house 
to the little balcony outside Mamma’s window, 
she ’ll talk a bit with you through it. That ’ll 
be easier than marching in and sitting down on 
a chair to be looked at and gotten acquainted 
with, won’t it? I should like it better, myself. 
Do you know, I too hate to meet strangers. I 
don’t let them know it if I can help it, for it 
is n’t kind, but I do, all the same, feel that silly. . 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


129 


Then, too, if you 're outside the window and 
are taken with another running-away fit you 
won't have to scare anybody, will you ? " 

She laughed at him from the foot of the ladder, 
down which he was descending to her level on 
the hay-strewn floor, but so merrily and utterly 
without malice that he laughed in response. 

I 'low I sha'n't never want to run away no 
more ! " 

Nor did he, from that day forward, from any 
member of the Sampson household. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


INTRODUCING DEACON TEWKSBURY. 

''T^HERE is no rose without a thorn/’ 

A The thorn to Daniel’s rose of happiness 
was — the wearing of shoes and stockings. 

Miss Sampson’s dictum had gone forth : — 

I will have no barefooted lad around this 
place, even if he were an angel — which Daniel 
Starbuck is n’t.” 

Yes, Ma’am. But I never wore ’em afore 
right smart cold weather, an’ o’ Sundays.” 

Hrnm. I fancy that your Sundays — for 
properly dressing yourself and attending service 
— were few and far between.” 

The lad colored, and remarked by way of ex- 
planation : - — 

Sharp, he was a perfessor.” 

And because he was an unworthy one, if he 
was, you will have none of church-going. Exactly. 
Well, you ’ll have to wear your shoes and stock- 
ings or — return to ‘ Sharp M ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


131 


In any case, Daniel would have made a valiant 
effort to please his new friend, but that settled 
the matter. He was obliged to forego leaping 
over any obstacle he met on his path and plod 
soberly around it. His feet seemed weighted 
with lead, and the creaking pf the new leather 
was intolerable to him. 

One day he complained to Philip : — 

The Doctor’s wife, she signified as how she ’d 
like a cute little squirr’l, same ’s I was tellin’ her 
’bout, for to play with an’ tame an’ teach tricks 
to, this cornin’ winter ; but though I ’ve ben up- 
mounting three er four times after dusk, to try 
an’ get her one, I can’t get nigh none. If ’t wa n’t 
fer that — ” 

Never mind, boy. You’re improving. You 
walk ever so much more naturally and comfort- 
ably than you did a week ago. In another one 
you ’ll do as well as if you ’d been — to shoes and 
stockings born ! Heigho ! Does n’t seem as if 
you ’d been here a month already, does it ? ” 
^^No.” 

Does n’t your mother think you ’re doing 
finely?” 

^^Yes. Every Sunday, when your aunt she 
makes me go up an’ see the folks, — I s’ pose ’t is 
right I should n’t ferget ’em, an* I ’m sure I don’t 


132 THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


want to make Ma feel no lonesomer 'n I can help. 
— Ma she says as how I do her proud. I mean 
to some day. Some day, when I ’m a man, if 
she wants to. I’ll earn me a house an’ let her 
keep it fer me. Only, she does seem pizen set on 
Sharp.” 

That ’s as it should be, I suppose. My ^ step’ 
is ^ set ’ on my father, too. Well — Bother! 
What ’s the use of thinking about them ? Uncle 
says that after our own lessons are done with 
to-day, we may ask to be excused and go to the 
woods for a while. It ’s ’most too early for nuts, 
but I ’ll take my gun, and you can catch your 
squirrel and have some fun. You need n’t wear 
your shoes in the woods either, on such an errand. 
It II be all right.” 

Dan’s face lighted wonderfully. He was a 
silent, thoughtful boy by nature ; and he missed 
his woods ” more than he himself realized, till 
the chance arose for his visiting them again. He 
was a regular hired boy” now ; for he had 
proved himself so capable and kindly among the 

stawk” that the family at Sampson House felt 
he was entitled to wages, over and above his 
board and school privileges, and that this arrange- 
ment would give a pleasanter feeling of indepen- 
dence on both sides. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


133 


Then I ’low I T1 jest take my money along 
an’ gin it to Ma. ^ Seein ’s believin’,’ an’ Sharp ’ll 
believe money quicker ’n ary thing else in this 
world.” 

“ All right. Only, I think you ought to keep 
it for yourself.” 

^‘No. I don’t want it. I ’ve got all I need, 
hain’t I ? ” 

A few old school-books and a few home-made 
clothes. But Uncle says — Did you hear what 
he said this morning ? ” 

No.” 

That if you went on as well as you had begun 
you ’d be a man the valley would be proud of yet ! 
that all you wanted was a ‘ chance ’ and he meant 
to do his best to give it to you. Odd ! is n’t it ? 
Soon as a body begins to have friends every other 
body wants to be friendly, too. That Jake Lane 
met Uncle yesterday, and told him he ’d been up 
your way looking for you. He wants to hire you, 
too, — to help him drive the stage and take care of 
the horses. I wish he ’d give me the chance ! ” 
Why, Philip ! ” 

True. I hate study — ” 

You never have to study ! You Tarn things 
by jest lookin’ at ’em.” 

‘^Well, I’d rather drive a four-in-hand, and 


134 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

that’s what Jake does every day. That new 
stage of his is a beauty, is n’t it ? ” 

Yes.” 

But Daniel pondered long over the oddities of 
human nature ; and, it may be, carried his own 
liead a trifle the higher, during that long school 
day, because there had been freely offered to him- 
self a position to which the fortunate Philip might 
hopelessly aspire! 

The last class of the day for Daniel was a 
primary geography.’’ It was a grief and bitter- 
ness to his soul, at best, to find himself placed 
among the little shavers ” because, as yet, he 
had not advanced sufficiently to join an older set ; 
but it had never seemed half so humiliating as on 
this afternoon when, while he was eagerly count- 
ing the moments till he and Phil should be off on 
their outing, there came the rumble of heavy 
wheels along the road, and a wagon stopped before 
the schoolhouse door. 

Every eye peeped through the windows, for 
visitors were rare ; and every face wore a look 
of disappointment when the new-comer was 
recognized. 

Old Deacon Tewksbury 1 ” 

Dominie Davidson peered over and under his 
spectacles, in his accustomed manner; and his 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 135 

own countenance dropped and flushed a little as 
he, also, beheld the approaching guest. 

The visitor entered, after a preliminary and 
quite unnecessary knock, with a vigorous clearing 
of the throat, as rasping and pompous as the voice 
which followed. 

Good day. Dominie. Good day, children. I 
was passin’ by and I gave myself the pleasure — 
the pleasure — of — of this little surprise visit. 
Ahem.’’ 

The master rose and proffered the Deacon the 
one arm-chair always reserved for such an 
occasion. 

But it was waved pompously aside. The hesi- 
tation and the pauses of the opening salutation 
were not due to any lack of self-possession on the 
speaker’s part. They were simply to render more 
effective the condescension of his coming. 

Presently, Dominie. Presently. As a trustee, 
and a friend of eddication — without which I 
should have been as ignorant — as — as ignorant 
as — well, that young mountaineer there, who has 
to be in the infant class because he has not had — 
I say, because he has not had — an opportunity 
of learning earlier in life. Do not be discouraged, 
Daniel — Daniel Sharp, I believe ; there is n’t no 
— there is no ^ r’yal road to learning ’ and if you 


136 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


persevere you ’ll catch up with the best. By and 
by. ‘ Rome was not built in a day/ you remem- 
ber. ^ Rome was not built in a day.’ ” 

Poor Dan ! He had had no thought of 
discouragement, the idea of failure had never 
entered his mind ; but he now flushed, and 
suffered all the pangs a keenly sensitive, or self- 
conscious lad could endure, and he dared not 
raise his eyes from the floor to which his gaze 
was glued. 

Phil half rose in his seat to defend his friend, 
and Helen’s eyes filled with sympathetic tears. 

But the visitor continued speaking, and their 
curiosity made them listen. 

The Deacon had turned toward the master. 

“ I don’t know. Dominie, but things are differ- 
ent now from what they used to be when I went 
to school. Though, for the matter of that, there 
should be little difference — under your rule ; 
under your rule, I say, because you must be as old 
as, or older than, myself. So you ought to know^ 
the old principle that when a visitor, and a trustee, 
— and a member of the board in full authority, — 
came to spend a little time in the school, why, 
any pupil whom he condescended to address was 
taught to stand up while he was being talked 
to. Eh?” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 137 
Possibly/' 

The Dominie's tone was so curt that the chil- 
dren were surprised. But it diverted attention 
from the unhappy Daniel, and he was not forced 
to rise and make himself any more conspicuous 
than he already was. 

Hmm. I thought likely. Why, let me see. 
It must be nigh on to forty years, is n't it, Mr. 
Davidson, since I was a pupil here myself, and 
you were the master, then, just as now ? " 

Quite long enough to have made the memo- 
ries of that distant day pleasant and sacred mem- 
ories to us both, I hope," said the old teacher, 
wistfully. 

The children were more amazed now by the 
sudden alteration in the speaker's tone than by 
his first sharpness. 

“ Hmm. Memories are all very well, very well 
in their way. But the thing is to progress — to 
progress, my children. The manner of conduct- 
ing a school nowadays, in more advanced locali- 
ties is quite di:fferent, I understand, from what 
prevails here. What we need is new life, new 
idees. I might almost have said — but let that 
pass. Let that pass, for the present." 

The trustee paused. He was a short, rather 
stout man, of exceeding complacency of bearing. 


138 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

yet with an expression that does not commonly 
belong to self-complacency, and that Phil had once 
characterized as sour,” and suggested by eating 
unripe grapes. He paced back and forth across the 
little platform whereon the teacher’s desk stood, 
with his hands under his coat skirts, his specta- 
cles on nose, and his glance piercing every child 
on which it fell — Jest like a bee stingin’ me,” 
thought Matilda Brown. 

Whispering was surely against the rule, but 
the man affected Helen so unpleasantly that, for 
once, she cast rules to the winds and exclaimed 
to Kate Wilkins : — 

I do wish he ’d sit down ! He looks exactly 
like Mamma’s pouter pigeon ! ” 

The class in geography is dismissed,” re- 
marked the master, very quietly ; and though his 
voice was low, it reached and relieved every 
trembling urchin on the recitation bench. 

When the clattering to seats had subsided, the 
visitor resumed his address, if such it was in- 
tended to be considered. 

Yes, my children — ” 

Thank my stars, he ’s a-lyin’ ! ” murmured 
Kate. 

^^Hey ? What’s that ? Did I hear somebody 
speak ? Will you kindly repeat your remark, my 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 139 

dear ? ” and his spectacles focussed themselves 
upon the guilty Katharine. 

I said we were n’t your children, sir. I did n’t 
mean nothin’ sassy.” 

The scholars giggled, but the girl was none 
abashed. She was perennially in disgrace, and it 
mattered little to her if she were found fault 
with. What would have mattered, greatly' — for 
she was generous — was that any other should 
be blamed. 

We can always say for Kitty that she takes 
her own punishment every time ! ” now remarked 
Philip to Renew, in so pointed a manner that 
that young gentleman fidgeted and thereby 
attracted attention to himself. To divert this 
notice whither it properly belonged. Renew im- 
mediately raised his hand and filliped his fingers 
desperately. 

Well, my young cousin, what is it?” asked 
the trustee, indulgently. They were of spiritual 
as well as physical kin, these two. 

Phil Sampson ^s talking while you ’re address- 
ing the school.” 

Oh ! you little reptile !” retorted Phil, angrily. 

Again the tell-tale’s hand flew up and his thin 
finger-tips clicked. 

Well ? ” — impatiently. 


140 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Now he ’s calling me names ! ” 

If it had been any other than Philip, the guilty 
youngster would have been promptly reprimanded. 
As it was, and for reasons of his own, the Deacon 
was disposed to be magnanimous. 

^^It is greater to forgive an injury than to re- 
sent one. Renew/’ he said piously. 

By this time all eyes were on the clock. The 
hands had travelled around its face to the very 
hour when writing-books should have been or- 
dered out, — an order equivalent to a general 
relaxation of school discipline, and positively the 
last duty to be accomplished for the day. By 
this time, also, Daniel and Philip should have 
been far up the mountain side, enjoying a well 
earned holiday. • 

N^ow, Dominie, I ’ll take that chair if you 
please. I want to ask a few questions of some 
of the pupils, and then, and then, I have a plan, 
a truly delightful plan, to unfold to them. Have 
I your permission ? ” 

The request was a farce. None knew it better 
than the old master. He would not have dared 
withhold his consent to this proposal; and. yet, for 
his own, as well as his pupils’ sake, he was ex- 
ceeding loath to give it. However, with again 
that pathetic droop gathering about his mouth. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


141 


he simply nodded assent, then shot an encourag- 
ing, sympathetic glance over the anxious young 
faces confronting him. 

Far more to him than to them, meant their 
failure, as fail they surely would ! Rarely does 
anybody his best when put on sudden exhi- 
bition, and the good Deacon had a most unfortu- 
nate influence, a perfect gift, so to speak, for 
making everybody ill at ease. Was this because 
he was so wholly at ease — with himself ? 

Ahem.” 

The very manner in which the examiner took 
off his glasses sent a fresh shiver through every 
watching youngster. But by the time he replaced 
them something had happened. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE trustee’s SCHEME. 

PJ^OLLOW me, Dan ! ” 

A The command had been swiftly given, 
swiftly obeyed. 

An open window was conveniently near — 
open windows to wrong-doing always are con- 
spicuously handy ! — and lads’ legs are lithe. 
There was a dissolving view of heads and heels, 
a possible suggestion of amusement on the 
Dominie’s worn face, and two empty seats. 

By the time the Deacon’s spectacles were re- 
adjusted, and his throat cleared by another por- 
tentous Ahem ! ’’ there was also a suppressed 
titter running about the whole schoolroom and 
dozens of envious hearts sent their owners’ eyes 
around toward that alluring window. 

This was Renew’s most golden opportunity. 
He embraced it promptly. 

Click ! Pstchik ! Snap, snap, snap ! ” 

Even his sympathetic relative was this time 
astonished, and exclaimed, testily : — 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


143 


Again, Renew ? It seems to me that you 
have a great many remarks to make. Well, 
what is it ? ” 

“ Phil Sampson and Dan Starbuck 's leaped out 
the window ! ” 

What ? Has anything happened ? My 
horse — ” 

Oh ! Your horse is all right. I guess they 
cut and run so ’s to get rid of your questions.” 

For a moment there was a dreadful silence in 
the great room. One could almost hear the 
young hearts beat with indignation. Save a 
few of the elder girls, not a child was there but 
would have followed Phil quite as readily as 
Daniel, and few would have suffered half as 
much remorse afterward. Yet never a one 
would so have tattled ” about another, save 
this miserable Renew. 

Anger rose in the Deacon’s eyes. He opened 
his lips, paused, and all expected a scathing out- 
burst against the runaways. Though, finally, 
with the mildest possible sarcasm, the lips ejacu- 
lated merely the comment : — 

So this — is a sample of the discipline — the 
discipline — in the Valley school ! ” 

Odd that at this simple speech the trouble 
should deepen on Dominie Davidson’s counte- 


144 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


nance, and that a wave of color should suddenly 
suffuse it, only to die away and leave it paler 
than before 1 

Seeing which, Helen again did an unprecedented 
thing. She beckoned all the girls near her to 
put their heads to hers and whispered to them 
very earnestly for the space of a full half-min- 
ute. She did this openly, determinedly, and the 
Deacon set it down in his mental note-book as 
one item the more to his side the account. 

The action distressed the master. Helen, his 
favorite, his always-to-be-depended-upon pupil ! 
However, it was only one more drop in the 
bucket ” of his present discomfort, and as yet 
the bucket ’’ had not overflowed. But he could 
not refrain from sending her one reproachful 
glance, as he had sent her so many sympathetic 
and encouraging ones ; and what was she doing ? 
Smiling ? 

Ay, smiling, — her bonniest, bravest, most 
reassuring smile. Also, come to notice them, 
just such a look was on the face of every girl to 
whom she had whispered. Each sat erect in her 
place, alert and self-possessed. For Helen had 
seen and guessed one cause of their dear master’s 
trouble. Having guessed it, her incipient woman- 
hood responded royally. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 145 

So that now, to the anxious teacher, those 
girlish faces, bright with an almost soldierly reso- 
lution, became a tonic. He straightened himself 
in his own place with all his ancient dignity, 
turned toward the visitor with the prestige of a 
one-time instructor, and requested : — 

^^Mr. Trustee, if you will kindly make your 
examination now, at once, the children will be 
grateful. I remember that you, also, longed to 
be released when the clock hands pointed to four 
— and you were a little tow-headed urchin be- 
hind that third-row desk. Your name is on it 
still, where you whittled it once — on just such 
an occasion as this.” 

He did remember, then ! — this old-time Dom- 
inie, who pretended to yet be young. Did he 
so pretend ? 

Deacon Tewksbury turned and bowed cour- 
teously ; and, bowing, shot a keen, observing 
glance over the man beside him. 

It was an hour of unusual happenings ; and 
to him also something unprecedented occurred. 
A certain softness, very like respect and tender- 
ness, stirred in his hard, self-sufficient heart, — till, 
for the moment, he beheld in the old master, not 
a superannuated pedagogue, who must be gotten 
out of office at any cost, but a man grown gray in 
10 


146 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

serving others, — a man who had gathered the 
‘‘ understanding ” and the wisdom ” which is 
gentleness. 

Ahem. Well, Dominie, since you remind me 
of it, I guess I won’t make the examination very 
long to-day, not very long — on account of its 
being near the closing time. I see by the bright 
looks of the little gals that they ’re ready, any- 
way, to answer, even if the boys don’t spunk up 
quite so quick. I ’ll just put a few simple ques- 
tions ’at anybody could tell right off, and pro- 
ceed — proceed to what mostly brought me here 
to-day. As a friend of eddication, I have a grand 
scheme to propose.” 

Thus having wrought expectation to its height, 
he fixed his eye on Katharine Wilkins and 
suddenly propounded : — 

What ’s a pile of wood worth, that ’s a hun- 
derd foot long, four foot wide, six foot high, and 
cost three dollars an’ seventy-five cents a cord ? ” 

Kate stared — blushed — stammered — and 
gasped out : — 

I s’pose it would depend on what kind of 
wood it was. Some kinds is worth a lot more ’n 
others.” 

By the sudden ominous silence over the room 
she discovered that she had been impertinent, but 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 147 

she had n’t so intended. Flashing a deprecating 
glance towards Helen, she stammered afresh : — 
If you ’ll — if you ’ll please to say* it over 
again, maybe — I ’ll try.” 

Very well. I ’m always willing — ” 

Excuse me, Trustee, but I think if you used 
the one word ‘ cost ’ in both instances, it might 
simplify the question. The ^ cost ’ and the 
^ worth ’ of a thing represent two ideas.” 

Deacon Tewksbury frowned. He had purposely 
studied up a few problems to give out, and he 
preferred to manage the examination to please 
himself. However, he did repeat the statement, 
modified as the Dominie had suggested, and 
though Kate failed, another girl — quicker at 
figures — ciphered out ” the problem and raised 
her hand to signify this fact. 

Well, Cornelia Dayton, then ? ” 

The answer was correctly given, and everybody 
was pleased. 

^^Good. Very good. Your pupil does you 
proud. Dominie. Ahem. Hmm. Matilda Brown 
^ if I hire two men and a boy to lay three hunderd 
and fifty-seven rod of stun wall for me, how much 
ought they to lay, all together, per day, and how 
long ought it to take ’em to finish the job ? Come 
now, that ’s an easy one.” 


148 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Matilda resented the imputation that she re- 
quired examples of especial ease, though it was 
quite true, and tossed her lovely head disdainfully. 

That depends on the wall.” 

Matilda ! ” 

‘^Well, Master, don’t it? If it was such a 
wall as is round your garden patch I reckon it 
oughtn’t to take ’em overly long. But if it 
was like that there one ’round Sampson House, 
why — it would take longer. ’Cause that ’s all 
matched stun.” 

Even Deacon Tewksbury smiled. Who could 
be angry with so pretty a girl ? 

Well, that ain’t so bad an answer. But just 
supposing it ’s the ordinary sort of stun wall, same 
as a likely mason could lay two rod a day at an’ 
not know he ’d done anything ; what then ? ” 

But poor Matilda hopelessly floundered. She 
wriggled and blushed and pouted ; then she was 
attacked by a violent fit of coughing ; and when 
this had subsided she leaned sidewise and asked 
Helen : — 

Won’t you button my apern for me ? It ’s 
all undone.” 

Helen nodded and held up her own hand. 

Give it up, Matilda ? ” 

‘‘I hain’t said so. I — I guess Pa would n’t 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 149 

hire a man could n’t work no faster n’ that. 
I — ” 

Helen Adair ! ” thundered the trustee’s voice. 
He felt his dignity insulted, and turned to the 
well-bred Helen for its restoration. She, mean- 
while, had had ample time to think the question 
over. 

Please, sir, do you mean that the boy’s labor 
would be equal to one-half a man’s ? ” 

Yes. Exactly. Ex-actly. Now we ’re cornin’ 
to it. Well ? ” 

They should lay, all together, fifty-one rods 
per day, and it would take seven days to complete 
the work.” 

The girl’s voice trembled slightly, though she 
felt confident her answer was correct. However, 
the approving nod of her teacher meant a great 
deal to her, even without the emphatic endorse- 
ment of the Deacon. 

The few questions next put were to the boys, 
and met with varying success. 

But on the whole — on the whole — I may 
say this brief examination has been satisfactory. 
Next time I will give you more time — ” 

An audible groan from somewhere. 

I will give you more time and we will get 
down to bottom facts more thoroughly. Now 


150 THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

for my scheme. It concerns both boys and gals, 
and I request perfect silence in the room while I 
am speaking.” 

Kenew’s hand had been up and down spasmodi- 
cally, for several moments, but the teacher had 
paid no heed to him. He now thrust his long 
arm ceilingward again, so vigorously and with 
such a resounding Tchitk ! ” of his thin fingers 
that attention was forced to him. 

Well, Renew ? ” 

Please, sir, may I go out ? ” 

When the school is dismissed.” 

“ Children, you all know what a great and 
glorious country you live in. You — ” 

Shucks ! ” from the back seat, very low and 
muffled. 

You are proud of your country, I hope. You 
ought to be proud of a land for which — - for 
which — our forefathers bled and died. You — ” 

Another uneasy chap followed Renew’s ex- 
ample. 

Please, Dominie, I must go out. I Ve got to 
get a drink o’ water.” 

Silence ! ” 

You have all been taught, I hope, something 
of map-drawing. It is very essential — most es- 
sential, in fact — that every gal and boy here 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 151 

present shall be able to draw a correct map, not 
only of bis native State but of the whole United 
States in general. States and — territories ; 
counties and — county seats ; mountains and — 
rivers; lakes, canawls, and — the princerpul towns 
and — cities in the land. 1 hope, I say, you are 
being taught this — and — 

“ Please, teacher, I ’ve got a toothache ! ” 

A little shaver on the front seat had also 
caught the prevailing restlessness. 

Come here, and I ’ll put some peppermint in 
it, Sammy.” 

The little chubby fist went down and Sammy 
snickered audibly. 

What I propose is this. Dominie — ” 

While Mr. Davidson’s eyes were turned toward 
the guest and his back toward the big boys’ row. 
Renew beheld his opportunity and seized it. But 
he walked through the open doorway with a 
swagger of bravado which had its effect upon the 
smaller children, if upon nobody else. 

What I propose is that the school shall 
make a map of these here United States, our glori- 
ous country. Make it, I say, not draw it on a 
piece of paper. I am not only the trustee of the 
Yalley school, but I am one of the directors of our 
county fair, and I want to see a good exhibition 


152 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

made of what the Valley school can do. There 
will not be time to finish the map — we ’ll call it 
a map — this year, but there will be by next year. 
The map is to be made of cotton cloth ; a patch- 
work quilt, in short, of the glorious United 
States ! Each State is to be one ‘ block,’ correct 
in shape ; and this block is to be composed of 
counties, set in of different colors and also in the 
correct shape. The States are to be separated by 
a narrow black braid, sewed on very neatly, and 
all of this part of the work will have to be done 
by the gals, I suppose. The marking of the 
mounting chains, and of the towns, and of the 
cities, and of — ” 

My Jimminetty ! ” 

All the rest I mentioned is to be put on in 
Injy ink by the boys. It ’ll be the combined 
work of the gals and the boys of the Valley 
school ; and if it is done perfect — after the latest 
map of our glorious country — I will — Atten- 
tion, childern ! Here comes the best part, to you 
prob’-ly, the reward. All them who does their 
share of the work perfect — according to them I 
shall app’int the judges — shall have a free ad- 
mittance to the County Fair next year, and a 
chance to see this wonderful patchwork quilt 
hung up in Exhibition Hall, in the most con- 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 153 

spic’us place I can get it hung. There, childern, 
what do you say to that ? ” 

say it’s splendid!” cried Matilda Brown, 
without real thought about it. 

‘Mt would be nice if we could do it, sir,” said 
Helen, meeting the Deacon’s glance toward 
herself. 

“ If you can do it ? IF — I say. IF you can 
do it 1 Why ^ — can’t you do it ? ” 

‘Mt seems to me a pretty hard task. If it was 
a quilt of just plain blocks ; but the maps in our 
geographies are so small. I ’m afraid — ” 

‘^To childern properly instructed there shouldn’t 
be no such word as fail 1 If you can’t do this — 
well 1 All I have to say is — I have my own 
’pinion of the way-behind-the-times sort o’ teachin’ 
you must get. Good afternoon, childern. Good 
afternoon. Dominie. I leave you the proposition 
to do with as you please.” 

The tone in which these last words were uttered 
was a menace. Even the young, unsuspicious 
scholars of the hard-placed Valley school recog- 
nized that, and a feeling of indignation rose in all 
their hearts. 

He need n’t have gone fer to done that 1 ” ex- 
claimed Matilda, veering swiftly round, as she 
saw public opinion did not echo her premature 
Splendid!” 


154 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Again the drawn look showed about the mas- 
ter’s lips, and again Helen Adair’s sympathy 
responded to that mute appeal. 

Her hand went up as eagerly as ever Kenew’s 
had done. 

Please, Master, may I speak ? ” 

Surely, there will be time, directly, my dear. 
Let us commit ourselves to the care of the Lord 
before we separate for the night.” 

The old man rose, closed his eyes, and rever- 
ently folded his hands, then waited an instant 
that utter quiet might be secured ; and into that 
peaceful hush there came a series of such shrieks 
and groans, such rattling of wood and iron, and 
such a wild stamping of horses’ feet, as efectually 
banished all spirit of devotion for that time. 

‘^Oh! Ah — a — ah! Who — a — oa 1 Oh! 
I ’m killed ! ” 


CHAPTER XV. 


ACCIDENT OR INTENTION ? 

A lmost instantly the schoolhouse was de- 
serted. The boys swarmed through its 
windows, and the girls tumbled over each other 
out of its narrow doorway. Even the master 
made breathless haste, for the groans and halloo- 
ings without grew louder and fiercer each second. 

And it was the Dominie himself who really 
first reached the spot where the Deacon lay, or 
rather sprawled, in a chaos of wagon-wheels, 
seats, buffalo-skins, and meal-bags, a greatly 
shaken and thoroughly astounded man. 

Are you hurt, neighbor ? What has hap- 
pened ? 

Fool — questions ! Can't you see what 's 
happened ? Course I ’m hurt ! " 

Your wagon — is shattered, but — I don't 
understand. Can I help you ? Here — lean on 
me. There — so!" 

I don^t know — I ain't — yes I be. Oh ! my 
back 1 my sides 1 Oh 1 dear — dear — dear 1 " 


156 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Mr. Davidson was seriously alarmed ; but his 
anxiety was somewhat allayed when he found 
that the trustee could manage to rise, though 
painfully, and that he seemed to have the use of 
his entire body. 

Oh ! that ^s better. I ’m glad. I don’t think 
there are any bones broken — for which let us be 
thankful.” 

Thankful ! Thank-f-u-1 ! Hmm. Huh ! 
Maybe, may — be ! Only, I guess it ’s a denied 
sight easier fer you ter be thankful, jest now, ’an 
’t is fer me ! Gosh all hemlocks ! Gosh — gosh 
— gosh ! ” 

The last word ended in collapse, with the Dea- 
con again sunk amid the jumble of things. 

The master was shocked. He was even fright- 
ened. It must be a sign of extreniest anger, 
possibly of serious brain trouble, when a leader 
in the church should let himself go as recklessly 
as this ! — a man so careful, commonly, of his 
vocabulary, and so painfully, aggressively pious. 

My dear sir, the — the children ! ” 

^^Well! What of ’em? I don’t — I can’t 
help it. I — Here, you clear out. I want ter 
get up again, if I can, an’ I don’t want no sech 
old tremble-bones as you be to help me, nuther ! ” 

Mr. Davidson stepped gently aside, while the 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 157 

ghost of a smile flitted over his face. This was 
precedent sufficient for the amused youngsters, 
who broke into a general titter, needing but one 
degree more to make it boisterous laughter. 

Children ! Silence ! James, do you step to 
that horse and take hold of his bit-ring. He ’s 
getting restless ! Helen, can’t you — ” nodding 
significantly toward the victim of this strange 
accident, as he still sat ruefully amid the debris. 

She went instantly to the trustee’s side and 
held out her hands. 

^^If you’ll just steady yourself by my grasp, 
I think I can help you out. There. That ’s all 
right. Now, one more — down — the ground. 
How queer it is ! Every wheel is ofi ! How 
could they all come loose at once ? Do you sup- 
pose you forgot to put them on right, last time 
you greased them ? ” asked the girl. 

Do you s’ pose I ’m a fool ? An idjit ? D ’ye 
ever hear tell o’ me — me — Deacon ’Lijah 
Tewksbury ridin^ round this here Valley, ’ith my 
waggin-wheels a jagglin* an’ wragglin’ all over 
the face o’ th’ yunivarse ? Hey ? Well, then, I 
guess 1 ain’t a-beginnin’ now.” 

At this moment Renew was seen leisurely ap- 
proaching from the well at the bottom of the 
playground, — a spot hidden by trees from the 


158 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

building itself, and utilized, therefore, from time 
immemorial, by every delinquent as a hiding- 
place. 

But Renew could not have been in hiding ! 
Certainly not. The entire gravity and innocence 
of his round, full-moon face precluded such a 
possibility. 

Yet Helen, watching him saunter lazily for- 
ward, was struck by the peculiarity of his man- 
ner and exclaimed, reproachfully : — 

Oh ! Renew ! Here is your cousin hurt, or 
has met with this dreadful mishap — and you 
not here to help him ! Did n’t you hear the 
commotion ? ” 

N-o-o. I mean — What ’s happened. Cousin 
Elijah ! ” 

Hey ? Here, you young rascal, fly round an’ 
take a holt. Roll that there wheel — Say, 
Renew ! Do you know ary thing ’bout this here 
job 

I ? I / Why, Cousin Elijah ! I was so 
terrible thirsty I went down and pulled a fresh 
bucket of water. And the first thing I hear now 
— is — Helen asks me why I ^n not in two places 
at once, and you think I ought to be watching 
your property without being asked to do it. The 
last time I offered to hold your horse, down at 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


159 


meeting, yon ordered me to go in and take my 
own place ; said there was no need of two people 
being late and disturbing the congregation. So, 
of course, I — 

“ Look here, young feller ! You Ve altogether 
too much gab. An’ you ’pear ter take it ’mazin’ 
cool. If I did n’t — if you did n’t — know ’t was 
to your int’rest to keep in my good graces I 
should think you ’d had — ” 

Why, look here. Cousin Elijah ! Shall I tell 
you what I think ? ” 

Eenew had now begun peering about, turning 
the hubs of the wheels around and poking his 
fingers into every axle-box, as if thus to solve 
the mystery of the break-down. 

No. Your opinion ain’t wuth bearin’. There 
— take a holt. Lift them bags out. Put them 
seats to one side. I ’m goin’ ter turn this box 
over an’ see — because it don’t seem nateral to 
reason that the hull four on ’em should ’a’ come 
ofi to onct ! ” 

Interested in the investigation, all the chil- 
dren, as well as their elders, were silent, while 
Deacon Tewksbury raised one side the box and 
examined the gear ” critically. 

They ain’t nary thing bust, so fur ’s I see. 
They hain’t but one conclusion to come to — and 


160 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

I Ve been cornin’ to it — I ’ve been cornin’ to it 
— right along 1 ” 

The man raised himself upright, as far as he 
could, placed his hands on his hips with an audi- 
ble sigh, and looked reproachfully around upon 
the company. His anger had cooled somewhat, 
or had diverted itself into a deeper and quieter 
channel, but there was a vindictive gleam in his 
eyes which frightened some of the girls into a 
retreat toward the schoolroom. 

You need n’t run, little gals. I know it 
was n’t none of you, ’cause you were all inside 
the building with me. But there ’s been bad 
work here — there ’s been mighty bad work. 
Here I come, a peaceable man, a tryin’ to 
raise the standards of the valley school a peg 
higher, an’ what do I meet? This — this!” 
and he waved his hand dramatically over the 
wreck. 

Now, Dominie, do you s’ pose this here hap- 
pened — jest happened ? ” 

^Ht is a peculiar accident. I do not under- 
stand it.” 

I do,” interposed Renew, rather too glibly. 

Somebody that ’s had a spite against Cousin 
Elijah has taken the nuts off every axle an’ 
loosened the wheels so far ’t the first time they 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


161 


turned round they ’d turn off too ! That ’s let 
the whole thing down ker-flollup ! ’’ 

Why, Renew Hapgood ! Who ’d dare ? ” 
asked Jimmy Bolton, angrily. 

Huh ! Plenty would.’' 

Shucks ! There is n’t a fellow in the school 
so mean as that ! Unless — ” 

“ ’Less what ? ” 

No matter,” — darkly. 

Renew turned the attention of the listeners 
by asking, innocently, — 

Where ’s Philip Sampson ? And that long- 
legged mountaineer ? ” 

A profound silence followed the question, dur- 
ing which the insinuation which Renew had hoped 
to convey did accomplish its miserable work. 

Sure enough ! where are they ? ” asked 
Kate, curiously. 

Oh ! Kate ! ” cried Helen. Surely you 
heard me say that Papa gave them permission to 
go into the woods this afternoon! That’s why 
they were so impatient while the Deacon was 
talking, — and what made them climb out of the 
window and slip off.” 

Hmm. Exactly. Well — they were the 
boys out here, were n’t they ? ” returned Renew, 
maliciously. 


11 


162 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


“ I don’t know what you mean. No, that 
isn’t true. I do know — and I can’t see how 
any boy can be so mean as to imagine such a 
thing of anybody else ! They went to the woods 
right away. I know they did ! What did they 
care about such a dirty trick as this ? ” 

Poor Helen was in dire distress. For once she 
was almost too angry to speak, and if glances could 
have withered, Renew Hapgood, toward whom, 
principally, her indignation was directed, would 
have shrivelled- upon the instant. 

But he did n’t shrivel, not in the least. He 
stood his ground quietly, indifferently, wholly 
satisfied with the turn affairs were taking. He 
settled his pink necktie, ran his fingers through 
his dark hair, thrust his hands into his pockets, 
and began to walk about with quite a lordly air. 

‘^Somebody’s got to pay for this! Isay — 
somebody — somebody — has got to pay for this 1 
Dominie, I expect you to make it your business 
to sift this matter to the bottom.” 

“ Certainly, I shall do so.” 

“ Here ’s the case. I come to make a visit to 
the school. When I finish an’ start home, I find 
that somebody — somebody, with malice afore- 
thought — has done what Renew says — fixed 
every one o’ my wagon-wheels so as they ’ll fall 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


163 


off the minute they begin to turn. Now — who 
is there in this school 'at is likely to do such a 
thing ? ” 

can imagine nobody mean enough/’ said 
the master, warmly. 

“ You ain’t a-goin’ to shield the transgressor, 
then ? ” 

sir? Have I ever — ever — knowingly 
condoned wrong-doing ? ” 

See here, Helen, I hate to make you feel 
bad, but I ’m a kind of a lawyer, you know, — a 
justice o’ the peace, — an’ I look into things. 
Here ’s a few plain questions ’at about answer 
themselves. Who’s been at the bottom of all 
the mischief a-goin’ here this past year ? Who 
rides high-footed square over rules and regila- 
tions, studies when he pleases an’ plays when he 
pleases ? I kinder guess you know the boy. 
There ’s that wagon — an’ there ’s them wheels !” 

The trustee interrupted himself to stand and 
glare savagely upon his broken-down vehicle, 
and, as before, with his rising anger his speech 
suffered. 

There’s them .wheels, I say, the hull four on 
’em ! They was all put on square an’ as they 
should be. They never come off afore. Why 
should they come off now ? Why, — somebody ’s 


164 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

helped ’em off ! An’ suspicion p’ints, I say sus- 
picion p’ints — to them boys what run away ! 
There. That ’s all. I shall make it my business 
to see t’other trustees an’ lay this matter afore 
’em. What ’s a school fer if ’t ain’t fer disci- 
pline ? Have we got discipline ? Huh ! An’ if we 
hain ’t got it, had we ought to have it, er not ? If 
one teacher can’t keep it — let us hope another can. 
Here, you Renew. Flax ’round now an’ hunt up 
them wheel-nuts ! Then help me put ’em on ag’in. 
All o’ you big boys, lend a hand. I’m goin’ home 
now, quick ’s I can get there. Then I ’ll ’tend ter 
business. Then, I say, I ’ll ’tend ter business.” 

It was a villanous scowl which the irate trus- 
tee bestowed upon the poor Dominie, but it was 
met by a look of such serenity, though sadness, 
that somehow its giver felt he had wasted it. 

The master was utterly silent. Even when 
Helen stole to him and laid her head against 
his arm, entreating him, ‘‘ Please say you don’t 
believe it was my Phil, dear- Master ! ” he merely 
stroked her hair absently and then passed on to 
assist in righting the disabled democrat,” by 
which name such equipages as the Deacon’s were 
thereabout known. 

Sadly she turned toward the empty school- 
house and gathered up her books, putting her 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 165 

desk in order for the night. Then she put on her 
little knitted jacket, which a thoughtful mother 
made her wear, now that October days had come, 
and tied her white dimity sunbonnet over her 
yellow curls. 

Kate met her at the doorway, just as she was 
going out, and in a burst of remorse exclaimed : 

I did n’t mean it was Phil, Nell, darling ! I 
don’t believe it was. He likes tricks — yet — ” 
That’s just it, Kate ! He does like tricks — 
and it ’s just the sort of ‘ lark ’ he ’d be up to if 
he had been a little mad. But he was n’t. I did 
think — I don’t know — I’m all mixed up in my 
thoughts. Why should Daniel let him do it, — 
Dan, who is studying so hard and trying to do 
every single thing he can that ’s right ? No mat- 
ter. I don’t want to talk about it, — not till I 
know the real truth. As far as our way goes toge- 
ther, let ’s walk along the brook. It ’s quieter, 
and none of the other children will talk to me 
of Phil.” 

Kate fetched her own pink sunbonnet and 
tucked her arm within her friend’s, and they 
struck off across the playground toward the nar- 
row stream which passed its southern corner, and 
wandered thence beside a leafy lane for a full 
half-mile. 


166 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Once out of sight of the schoolhouse and beside 
their beloved Funny-Child Brook their spirits rose 
again, and they forgot everything save the won- 
derful gentians which grew upon its banks. 

Oh ! here ’s the loveliest bunch yet, Kate ! 
Are n’t they so pretty and so odd ? Never to 
open their hearts a bit more, and — Oh ! what ! 
Look there ! ” 

The change in tone startled the other, and she 
turned to see Helen, pale and wide-eyed, pointing 
dramatically toward the middle of the stream. 


CHAPTER XVL 


NOT A PURSE, BUT A WHISTLE. 

I N response to Phil’s special pleading, Miss 
Delight had set aside her usual decision, 
that all the hired help of Sampson House should 
take their meals in the kitchen, and had gra- 
ciously accorded Daniel a seat at the family 
board over which she presided. 

In all the other valley households the employ- 
ers and employees ate together, in democratic 
simplicity ; but, unpretending as she was in most 
things, there were one or two customs of her 
aristocratic ancestors to which the good lady 
clung tenaciously, — this, of having two tables, 
being the most rigidly adhered to. 

It was, therefore, all the more of a slight to 
her generosity that the favored Daniel should be 
late to supper on the evening of the Deacon’s 
visit to the school ; and some other matters, 
wholly domestic, having gone wrong, she looked 
up with considerable vexation as he finally came 


168 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


creaking in, wearing his Sunday shoes, just as the 
bread-and-meat course was ended and Molly was 
serving the cake and preserves. 

Well, Daniel ! T did not know as you in- 
tended honoring us at all with your presence 
to-night ! ” 

Ma’am ? ” asked the astonished woodlander. 

Hmm. You ’re late,” she returned, feeling 
that sarcasm was wasted. I conclude, because 
you stopped to change your school shoes for your 
best ones.” 

Yes, Ma’am, I know I be. I mean, I know I 

— am.” 

That ’s right. You are improving in your 
grammar wonderfully. Whenever you take care 
about it you speak quite correctly. Where is 
Philip ? ” 

Daniel fidgeted, blushed, and awkwardly took 
his seat, but he did not reply until she repeated : 

Where is Philip ? ” 

I don’t know — ezackly.” 

Daniel, that ’s impertinent ! ” 

Sho ! I did n’t mean to be sassy. But — I ’d 

— I ’d ruther you did n’t ask me. Ma’am.” 

It is n’t necessary to say ^ Ma’am’ continually. 
I like it occasionally, but — I insist upon your 
telling me where my nephew is.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 169 

ain’t in any harm, Ma’ — I mean, Miss 
Sampson.” 

Where — is — he ? ” 

Loyalty to Philip and honor to his benefactress, 
as he always considered Aunt Delight, pulled the 
lad in diverse directions, but he finally collected 
himself so far as to say : — 

Won’t you please excuse me from tellin’ this 
time ? He ’ll be home afore — afore — I’m sure 
he won’t be gone a great while.” 

Miss Sampson said nothing further at the 
time ; but she showed her displeasure by correct- 
ing more often, and sometimes needlessly, poor 
Daniel’s awkward habits at table, till he became 
utterly confused, and even the placid Doctor was 
in distress. 

As for Helen, she had been strangely preoccu- 
pied ever since her return from school, and though 
she had brought a beautiful bunch of gentians to 
her mother, she had seemed so sober when pre- 
senting them that half the recipient’s pleasure 
was destroyed. 

My darling, what ’s happened to make you 
so serious ? Anything wrong at school ? ” Mrs. 
Adair had asked ; and her child had responded, 
mysteriously : — 

Yes, Mamma, dearest, there is. But I don’t 


170 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

want to tell you just yet, — not till I have seen 
the boys. Then — when I understand — you 
shall hear the whole business.’’ 

This same uncommon mood had continued ever 
since ; and it was a relief to everybody when, just 
as they were rising from the table, Philip entered, 
rather boisterously, and with his eyes fairly danc- 
ing, with merriment. 

Oh ! Auntie! Uncle! There’s the greatest 
fun out ever you heard of ! Somebody — 
nobody knows who — loosened all the nuts of 
Deacon Tewksbury’s wagon, and — Hello, 
Nell ! What ’s the matter ? What do you 
want ? ” for she had run to him and clasped his 
arm entreatingly. 

Oh ! Phil, did you do it ? or Dan ? ” 

Well, upon my word ! I like that ! ” — with 
infinite indignation. 

Don’t put me off. Tell me. Did you do it ? ” 

‘‘No! no!” returned both lads, swiftly and 
hotly. 

“ They think you did ! ” 

“ Then they, whoever ‘ they ’ are, may un- 
think ! But, I say, it ’s the best joke I ever heard 
of! That old — ” 

“Philip!” 

“ Yes, Uncle.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 171 

“ Nephew, where did you hear this ? ” demanded 
Aunt Delight, keenly. 

Why — well, if you must know — down at 
the old mill.” 

Where you ’ve been forbidden to go.” 

Oh ! hang it all. Auntie. You can’t keep a 
fellow in a straight-jacket — outside a prison ! I 
mean, I’m sorry to be disrespectful, but — it’s 
so awfully dull here. I can’t help going where I 
can have a little fun once in a way. It was noth- 
ing great to-night. Some of the boys were getting 
up a little supper, and they asked me, and — ” 

So, of course, you went ! I, also, have ^ asked 
you,’ but that does n’t count, it seems.” 

Now, Auntie Delight, that ’s cruelty to poor 
me. You know I have n’t any ^ say No ’ in my 
make up, and — Well, they wanted something a 
little nice. They had no money and I had, and so 
— I went down to the store and bought some candy 
and lemons. That ’s all. Surely. We just had 
our supper, then after I ’d heard this news I 
could n’t wait till I got home. There ’s nothing 
wrong about those boys either. Uncle Adair, 
only they like nonsense.” 

Exactly. Now, Daniel, what is it ? ” 

— I just wanted to tell you about my shoes.” 

Your — shoes ? ” 


172 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

^^Yes. I Ve been doin wrong, too. You told 
me to wear ’em, an’ I did n’t — I hated ’em so ; an’ 
so I took ’em off — an’ — 1 ’ve lost ’em, an’ — 

But here the penitent caught sight of Helen’s 
face and stopped in surprise. 

Why — Swidgeycorum ! What have I said or 
done now?^"* 

Where did you lose your shoes, Daniel ? ” 
asked the Doctor, breaking the silence. 

That beats me ! I took em off, after we dumb 
out o’ windows — ” 

What ? Explain yourself.” 

Daniel looked at Phil, who suddenly exploded 
in a burst of laughter, and in an aggrieved tone 
replied : — 

I ’d ruther not.” 

Helen, do you know anything about all this 
business ? If you do, tell all you know.” 

Frightened by the unusual sternness of her 
father’s tone, she made her recital as brief and 
explicit as she could ; from the moment of the 
Deacon’s arrival at the schoolhouse till that in 
which she had discovered — But here she, also, 
paused abruptly, and looked piteously toward 
Daniel. 

Please, Papa dear, I don’t want to tell the 
rest. Ask — him.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 173 

What does she mean, lad ? ” 

Blest if I know ! ” returned the mountaineer, 
apparently completely mystified. 

‘‘ Oh ! Daniel ! I did believe in you being truth- 
ful ! ” burst out poor Helen, shocked beyond bear- 
ing by the duplicity of her Hero.’’ 

Daniel’s face flushed scarlet and he tossed his 
head backward as if she had struck him, but his 
glance did not flinch, and he asked her instantly : 

What do you mean, please ? Did ever you 
hear me — did anybody ever hear me — tell a lie ? 
I ain’t perlite, an’ I always am a-doin’ things I 
had n’t oughter, but — Swidgey corum ! I ain’t a 
liar ! ” 

Daniel ! That ’s a hard word ; a word no 
gentleman, nor one who aspires to be a gentle- 
man, should ever use toward another, least of 
all toward a girl, a woman ! ” 

I know, sir, an’ I’m ashamed. But it come 
out afore I knowed it. Yet I mean it, — in one 
sense. I hain’t told no lies, an’ I do wish she ’d 
say out plain, plumb straight what she ’s a- 
thinkin’ about.” 

Helen, tell him.” 

Dan, I found your shoes and stockings ! ” 
Goody ! Did you ? Where ? ” 

Where you put them.” 


174 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Under the wood-pile alongside the school- 
house ? ” 

The wood-pile ! Oh ! Daniel Starbuck ! How 
can you ? ” 

Well — I ’m dumfounded II — ” 

Helen, my daughter, tell at once where you 
found them.” 

On a rock in the middle of Funny-Child 
Brook.” 

Swid — gey — co — rum ! How come they 
there ? ” 

‘‘ Did n’t you put them there ? ” asked the girl, 
severely, yet still hoping that he would be able to 
say no. 

He did say no, with a vehemence and readiness 
that carried conviction with it, conviction, at 
least, to her trusting soul. As for Miss Sampson 
— but that was afterward. 

How in the mischief could they have gotten 
there?” asked Phil, curiously. ‘^It’s all my 
fault. Uncle, Auntie, and this is all there is to the 
^ business,’ so far as either of us know. You ’ve 
forbidden Dan to go without his feet covered, and 
he has obeyed, even though it was a real tor- 
ment to him. He wanted to find a squirrel for 
Aunt Serapha — and he has found one, too, a 
beauty ! — but his shoes creaked so he could n’t 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 175 

get near any, and I took pity on him this time. 
I take all the blame, if there is any for such a 
trifle. So, when I saw we were in for a regular 
homily from Deacon I just scrambled out the 
window and called to him to come too. He did 
without thinking — till he was outside. Then 
he wanted to go back, but I coaxed him not. 
And to comfort him I made him take off the 
^ pesky ^ things and leave them under the wood- 
pile. 

That ^s all there is about it. When we came 
back it was quite dark, but the shoes were gone. 
We stayed, and searched everywhere, for he feared 
Auntie Delight would be mad — excuse me, of- 
fended. She 'd think he did n’t appreciate his 
advantages, and he does, if ever an unfortunate 
chap did. 

Somebody, I can’t imagine who, has taken 
those hateful shoes and stockings and thrown 
them into the brook just to plague him. Whether 
it was the same person who played that funny 
trick on Deacon Tewksbury or not, I can’t tell, 
but I think it likely. Don’t you ? ” 

I think nothing yet, — save that this in- 
sult to a good man which you are pleased to call 
^ funny ’ may prove something quite different 
from fun to an innocent person. Enough of 


176 THE LITTLE EED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 

the matter for to-night. Now, Nell, let ’s go to 
Mother’s room and tell her about that marvel- 
lous quilt. Maybe she’ll be able to give you 
some helpful ideas concerning it.” 

Then the group separated. Doctor Adair and 
Helen repaired to the mother’s Peace Koom ; ” 
Aunt Delight departed kitchen ward, intent upon 
her last household cares for the day ; while Daniel 
hastened to his neglected ^‘chores,” and Phil went 
to amuse himself with the newly caught squirrel, 
and to fasten it in the cage which he had bought 
during his late visit to the Valley store, whose 
forehanded proprietor kept everything in stock, 
from pulpits to penny whistles.” 

As the mountaineer passed Miss Sampson, on his 
way to the barn, he heard the long-suffering house- 
mistress remark to herself, in a disappointed tone : 

Well-a-day ! One ‘ can’t make a silk purse 
out of a sow’s ear ’ ! ” 

Was it accidental that she glanced at poor Dan 
as she said it ? 

As if she had spoken to him openly, he replied, 
politely : — 

“ No, Ma’am, I s’pose not. But some can make 
‘ whistles out ’o pigs’ tails,’ ’cause it has been 
done ; an’ I mean to show you it ’ll be done 
again.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 177 


Words, Daniel, words. Deeds are better.’' 

Yes, Miss Sampson, I ’gree with you.” 

By which odd little dialogue some ideas were 
exchanged which proved helpful to both ; for 
the lad went out to his stable with a firmer tread, 
and Aunt Delight let a grim smile come out and 
rest upon her lips. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE MORAL BEFORE THE HOMILY. 

“ 73 UT I tell you, little girl, the thing is ridic- 

-Ll ulous. Simply ridiculous. More than 
that, it ’s about impossible.’’ 

About, but not quite. I do believe we could 
do it. I — I must try, anyway. Please say 
yes to the only way I can think of. Won’t 
you?” 

Helen’s arms were around her old aunt’s neck, 
and her sweet face coaxingly near the time- 
furrowed features of that strictly common-sense 
person,” as she was pleased to term herself. 

Child, you ’re as persistent as — some other 
people.” 

Phil, for instance ? ” 

Never mind Philip. I’m not pleased with 
Philip, my dear.” 

Helen sighed. Things at Sampson House were 
not running with their usual smoothness. Al- 
most daily, at school or elsewhere, there was 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 179 

some complaint about the mischievous lads in 
the valley, and directly, or indirectly, nearly 
every lark ” would come home to rest upon 
Philip’s laughing — 

I did n’t think ; ” I did n’t see any harm.” 

^‘Well, I know. Auntie dear; but Philip isn’t 
concerned in this thing yet. And it must 
be done. I talked over a lot of things yester- 
day, when I was riding with Papa, and — oh ! 
Auntie Delight, if you ’re a friend, a real friend 
to dear old Dominie, it must be done, some 
way.” 

A friend, Nell ? Why, we were lad and lass 
together, child, like you and Phil. What threatens 
that good man’s peace, my Helen ? Tell me all 
your father said.” 

It is n’t so much. He says there ’s a con- 
spiracy — I think that ’s what he called it — to 
get rid of our master and hire a new one, a young 
one. Papa says it ^s the hard way of the world 
that when a man gets ripe in wisdom he ’s im- 
mediately shelved, like a completed volume. No 
matter how good he is or — ” 

Never mind philosophy, Helen. You ’re too 
young for that, even at second hand. What’s 
your scheme about this dreadful quilt? I be- 
lieve, by the wanness of your face, that you 


180 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

actually lie awake nights to plan how it may be 
done.” 

I have lain awake. That ’s the way I Ve 
thought it all out.” 

Go on.” 

First, I want to take my money out of the 
bank, my little savings-bank, and send to New 
York, or Boston, or away off, wherever they 
get such things, and buy a big, splendid map of 
the United States. Just as they are now, with 
all the new States and everything. Then I want 
to have all the girls come here every Saturday 
afternoon and make the quilt right after that 
pattern, if you ’ll let us have the loft or the big 
garret, to work in. It's light, and I think 
Papa would give me wood enough to make a fire 
there. And after it 's all pieced and put together, 
or maybe each state-block as it ’s finished, the 
boys could come and put in the rivers and things 
like they were told to do. It would be best, I 
know, to do it by the blocks, so if any mistakes 
were made it would be easier to fix it.” 

Any mistakes were made ! Child, it would 
be all mistakes. I — and I ’m an experienced 
seamstress, Nell, — even I wouldn’t undertake to 
do such a monstrous thing, unless I wanted to go 
to a lunatic asylum.” 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


181 


But if it were for Master ? ” 

‘^Well, if it ^ were for Master/ and if it were 
possible.” 

However, Miss Sampson did not look quite so 
scornfully amused as when Helen had first seri- 
ously broached the subject, and the girl went 
on : — 

We think, Papa and I, that the Deacon be- 
lieves it ’s an impossibility — whew ! what a long 
word ! — just as you do. He gave us the task 
because he did so believe. So that when we 
failed he ’d be able to say it was a- proof our 
dear Dominie did n’t know enough to teach the 
children of this generation and should be re- 
moved ; and. Auntie, I believe he ’d die, really 
die, if they made him give up teaching ! ” 

Hmm. May be. I ’m afraid I should die if 
I had to do it for him ! Three youngsters are 
all my patience is equal to, — and it has to be 
stretched, like that stocking-leg of yours, even 
then.” 

Helen laughed and smoothed the knitting-work 
on her knee. It was Aunt Delight’s rule that 
the girl should knit all her own stockings ; and 
sometimes, when the boys were having especial 
fun out-of-doors and wanted her companionship, 
they would each take an end of the half-corn- 


182 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

pleted work and pull it so forcibly that it length- 
ened an inch or two. 

But, Auntie, dear ! You know I don’t cheat 
about it, do I ? For I always count the ^ times 
round ’ and knit as many on each one, the same 
as if they did n’t stretch it. So may we have 
the loft ? And if we get into a tight place, will 
you, who Ve pieced so many lovely quilts, show 
us and set us right ? Because we must do it. 
Besides that, we ’ve all talked it over, all us 
girls, and some of the boys ; and we ’re going to 
study this year harder than we ever did before, 
and pass just perfect, perfect examinations at the 
end. If we haven’t learned things it hasn’t 
been dear old Dominie’s fault.” 

No, dear. Nor do I see how he can be, as he 
is accused, so very ‘ far behind the times ; ’ for 
I^m sure he spends a deal of money upon new 
books, and he is an inveterate reader. It is he, 
always, of all the valley folk, who is first to hear 
of the world’s progress, and to spread the news 
to all who will listen. No ; if the school is back- 
ward it is n’t the master’s fault.” 

“ And, Auntie Delight, may I ? ” 

“Persistent! Well — yes. I’m laying up a 
terrible winter’s task for myself, — it ’ll mostly 
come upon me, my dear, — but you may invite 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


183 


the girls to come here one week from next Satur- 
day. By that time the map should be here, and 
I ’ll help you organize and begin. Only, Helen, 
remember : if this task is begun, and it is possi- 
ble of completion, it must be completed. Also, 
all the expense of the map is to come from your 
own little store of cash. But the pieces can all 
be furnished easily enough, if each girl supplies 
enough for her own ‘ block.’ 

Now run and brush your hair and put on a 
clean apron. There ’s to be a temperance lecture 
at the little red schoolhouse this evening, and 1 
am going with you young folks, myself, while 
your father remains at home with Serapha. All 
the rest of us, even Susan and Molly, must 
hear this wonderful orator who is turning the 
world upside down with his new theories of total 
abstinence. So run and get ready.” 

Helen needed no second bidding. It was a 
rare thing for her busy aunt to leave Sampson 
House, save on Sunday mornings ; when, at the 
head of her flock, she regularly appeared in the 
old meeting-house away down the turnpike, and 
took her seat in the front pew, — the same pew 
which had been occupied with corresponding regu- 
larity by ^Hhe Sampsons” of succeeding genera- 
tions, since the erection of the building. 


184 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Away sped the child to her own little room and 
arrayed herself in her gray merino gown, with its 
prim little ruffles of lace at throat and wrists, and 
so short of length that, according to the fashion 
of the time, a goodly expanse of stiffly starched 
pantalette showed beneath the hem. A dainty 
apron of nainsook was tied over the frock, for no 
self-respecting lassie of those days would risk her 
best attire without this protection. Then she 
donned her knitted over-socks, her scarlet cloak, 
and hood, and thus equipped ran lightly down to 
her mother’s room to be inspected and kissed 
good-bye. 

“ Am I all right. Mamma ? And all the trouble ’s 
over ! Aunt Delight is going to help us, and that 
^ dreadful quilt ’ shall ‘ do ’ our master ^ proud ’ ! 
Is n’t it funny for me to be going out after dark ? 
I ’ve never been, you know, but once or twice in 
all my life ! ” 

Such a short life, yet, my darling ! ” 

And I ’m so glad it ’s in the schoohouse ; be- 
cause Auntie’s going to let us three children walk. 
Only she and Susan and Molly and old Abraham 
will ride in the spring buggy.” 

Then you ’ll keep close in sight of it, won’t 
you, my child ? It ’s a lonely road, as I remem- 
ber it.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


185 


Why, Mamma! and I walk it every day! 
It ’s never lonely to me.’' 

But the shanty settlement. They ’re rough 
people who live there. That group of hovels 
always was a blot upon our beautiful valley. I 
wish — and yet, they’re human. Well, I only 
hope some of them, some who need this lecture, 
will go to hear it.” 

“ Yes, dear, so do I. And did n’t you know ? 
There ’s only one family left now in the settle- 
ment. That ’s in the last one of the • row.’ Mike 
Walsh, his wife and his six little children. I 
was there with Papa the other day, and they ’re 
the dearest little creatures. Papa went to 
offer the man a job at the threshing; but he 
did n’t care about it. He — but there ’s Auntie. 
Good-bye. I hope you and Papa will have a 
lovely evening.” 

And you, my child, as well ! Good-bye. God 
bless my little maid.” 

The spring buggy, drawn by old Carey and 
driven by older Abraham, the serving man, moved 
sedately out of the grounds and down the frozen 
turnpike, with Helen, Philip, and Daniel walk- 
ing close behind. At frequent intervals Miss 
Delight looked around over her shoulder to. see 
that all was well, but after a while fell into a 


186 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


discussion of the farm work with her ancient re- 
tainer and left the ^‘youngsters” to themselves. 

Susan and Molly were full of the novelty of the 
occasion, and the two lads deep in boys’ talk which 
did not in the least interest the girl behind 
them. 

The moon was at the full and the wide land- 
scape almost as light as sunshine might have 
made it ; and Helen paced dreamily on after the 
rest, absently humming an old-time tune while 
she pondered upon the details of the patch-work 
task to which she had set her hand. 

“ It shall be perfect, even if it is ugly. For my 
part, I think a ‘ rising sun ’ or a ‘ goose chain ’ is 
much prettier. Then, think of the whole school 
going to the County Fair ! — where everybody 
sees — Hark! What’s that?” 

It was the sound of a child’s sobbing. It came 
from behind the rail fence that bordered the turn- 
pike, and it pierced the frosty air with pitiful dis- 
tinctness. 

Helen’s quick sympathy responded instantly, 
and running to the bushes which hid the weeper 
from her sight, she parted their bare branches 
and looked through the spaces of the fence. At 
first she could see nothing clearly. It was all 
just a heap of shadow’'s in the hedgerow, and the 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


187 


sobs had ceased as soon as the crackling of the 
frozen twigs betrayed her presence. She waited 
a bit and then, in her gentlest tone, inquired : — 
Little child, who are you ? ” 

There was no answer, but her eyes had grown 
accustomed to the dimness beyond the rails, and 
she could make out the form of a tiny girl crouch- 
ing on the ground. 

In another instant Helen had placed her mit- 
tened hands upon the topmost rail, given a boyish 
swing to her supple limbs, and leaped over, land- 
ing close beside the hiding little one, who now 
crept to her own feet and started to run away. 

But the action was not swift enough, and the 
lifting of the small head disclosed its identity. 

Why, Kitty Walsh ! You baby ! Yon poor, 
cold little girlie ! What are you doing here ? ” 
Even then the child would have escaped, but 
Helen had flung off the cape of her own warm 
cloak and wrapped the shivering midget in it. 

The warmth, the tenderness, the sudden sense 
of safety wrought an equally sudden change in 
small Kitty’s mood. She had recognized her 
comforter as one of the family upon whose 
charity her improvident parents were accustomed 
to depend when necessity was dire. 

Kitty ’s so cold ! so hungry ! ” 


188 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


But what are you doing here ? Now ? You 
should be asleep, a little thing like you ! Does 
your mother know where you are ? ” 

Daddy ’s cross ! I ’se so afraid ! I runned 
away. I’se so hungry.” 

You poor baby ! And I have n’t a thing to 
give you. But come. I ’ll take you home. I ’m 
going past that way. See. I ’ll put you over 
the fence first, then I ’ll come. You shall wear 
my cape all the way, and I ’ll ask your mother to 
give you some food. You are a naughty little 
girl, I ’m afraid, Kitty, to run away.” 

No. No. Not naughty. Dad ’s naughty. 
Dad did holler — loud. He hurt Ma. She — 
Oh ! I can’t go home ! ” 

Had she not been restrained the little creature 
would have escaped and crawled back through 
the fence, to bury her face in her hands and, 
because she could not then see, fancy herself 
hidden. 

^^No, Kitty. I’m going to take you home. 
Nobody shall hurt you. Come, show me the 
way ! ” 

Kitty ’s c’oak. Bitty c’oak,” remarked the 
child, her attention already diverted to the soft 
fur about the gay cape which enveloped her. 

Yes. Hold it up so you won’t step on it — 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 


189 


SO. Now let’s run. See if you can get there 
first ! ” 

They reached the cabin directly, but Helen 
stopped short on its threshold. The sounds of 
drunken laughter, a rude song, and a woman’s 
shriek of pain, mingled in one hideous babel, and, 
for an instant, froze the blood in her veins. 

Catching up the little child in her arms, she 
hugged it protectingly, while her eager gaze 
scanned the moonlit road in either direction. 
But forward, the buggy and the lads following 
it had already passed out of sight, and backward 
there was no sign of moving creature. 

Another shriek pierced her soul, and pushing 
open the door she confronted the inebriate, Mike 
Walsh, horsewhip in hand, with maudlin hilarity 
chasing his wife and little ones around and 
around the room. 

A hush of astonishment followed her appear- 
ance, and before the astounded man could re- 
cover his benumbed wits Helen had crossed to 
him, taken the whip from his unresisting hand, 
and seized his coarse fingers in her own firm 
grasp. 

Come. You must go with me. There ’s a 
man down the road has something to say to you. 
Come.’’ 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE UNSPOKEN SERMON. 

AZOU can do anything with poor Walsh 
JL when he 's half drunk.” 

This remark heard, but unnoticed at the time, 
from old Abraham's lips came into Helen’s mind 
at that instant with vivid distinctness. 

Another half-remembered saying of Aunt De- 
light’s, on an occasion when Phil had teased her 
for timidity, also arose and ranged itself along- 
side the other, sending a thrill of conscious 
power through her eager soul : — 

She’s only a girl, but there’s soldier’s blood 
in her veins. She ’d fight for the right — as 
well as another.” 

The ‘^soldier’s blood” tingled in response to 
the thought. With a still firmer grip of the 
laborer’s hand she guided him out of the hovel, 
into the road and down it, as swiftly as his 
stumbling feet could move. A glow of enthu- 
siasm was in her face, and her eyes shone like 
stars. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


191 


I never saw anybody like this before ; but, 
surely, here is one of those whom Mamma hoped 
might hear the lecture. He shall hear it. He 
must.” 

They were at the cross-roads almost before 
she realized it, and here she was no longer alone. 
All along these byways were people hurrying 
lest they should be too late for the rare enter- 
tainment, and on the turnpike a straggling 
company made equal haste. Some cast curious 
glances upon her, not all recognized her, and 
most were more intent upon their own chances 
for securing a good seat than upon their neigh- 
bors^ business. 

Outside the building she saw, as they reached 
it, teams of every description ranged along the 
bordering fences or — a fortunate few — safely 
housed beneath its sheds, humanely erected for 
horses* comfort on the weekly prayer-meeting 
night. 

But no prayer-meeting, not even during a re- 
vival, had ever seen so many people thronging 
the ancient building. The lecturer was already 
world-famous, and would surely never have spared 
time from his busy life to visit this isolated region, 
save for love of his old friend and fellow- 
worker in the Cause,” good Dominie Davidson. 


192 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

So that, as Helen steered her wondering, half- 
stupid charge up to the door she found it blocked 
by a press of persons which effectually prevented 
her ingress to the room. 

Please. Please, good people, will you not let 
me go in ? ” 

Can’t be done. Sissy. Nuther in nor out 
now, I reckon. Never see secha jam, nowheres.” 

She fell back somewhat and felt Michael’s hand 
slipping out of her own. But, wheeling about, 
she caught and drew his arm through hers and 
thus brought the truant hand in front of her, to 
clasp it with all the might of her firm young 
fingers. 

No. No. Keep still. We’ll get in after a 
little. Oh ! Is n’t this — strange ? ” 

It was strange. The wonderful magnetism of 
the man whom all had come to hear seemed to pen- 
etrate those walls which hid him and this unsee- 
ing, waiting humanity beyond the threshold. 

Slow-witted, illiterate countrymen, some, with 
many of keener brain ; still, it was all the same : 
one power, one expectation enthralled them, and 
already — long before he had uttered one audible 
word — the lecturer’s task was half accomplished. 

In ten-fold degree Helen’s sensitiveness re- 
sponded to the emotional excitement which had 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 193 

electrified these duller natures and she became 
absolutely oblivious to everything save the fact 
that in there, behind that barricade of men and 
women, was the one man she must reach, — the 
one man to whom she was bringing this malo- 
dorous sinner beside her to be purified and saved. 

Once more she made an eloquent appeal to be 
let pass ; and at the ring in her beseeching voice 
the outmost layer of that overlapping throng fell 
off and permitted her a foot or two of progress. 

To do more than this was impossible. The 
little entry was so packed that neither hand nor 
limb could move, and only a few, half-suffo- 
„ cated ejaculations filtered through to the free 
outer air. 

Then she fell back ; tears in her glowing eyes, 
despair in her heart, yet holding still the faster 
to the confused and speechless Michael. 

A memory, an inspiration came. As swiftly 
and noiselessly as she could she retreated from 
that crowding throng. She felt that if she were 
seen she would be followed, and she must not be 
— yet ; not till her charge was safe where she 
would have him. 

When she was quite free of all these others she 
ran, dragging the stumbling victim of her zeal 
over the frozen ground behind her. Had he been 
13 


194 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

other than a stupid mass of flesh she would have 
failed, but his matter obeyed her mind quite 
unresistingly. 

At the very back of the building, where were 
neither doors nor windows, of ordinary construc- 
tion, was a small lean-to. It was used for summer 
storage of the great stove and the disused benches. 
It opened outwardly by a wooden shutter, and its 
rude inner door, admitting to the schoolroom, was 
screened by the big blackboard. 

^^If I can get him through that window — 
it is n’t high I That old log — a wagon-seat — 
I can ! ” 

She braced Michael against the lean-to, beside 
the shutter, and, with misgiving, loosened her 
grasp upon him. He remained where she placed 
him, as stupidly as he had obeyed all her former 
behests. 

How queer ! He frightened his wife — and I 
frighten him ! But he was noisier then, and he 
struck her.” 

However, the fact of his present submission re- 
mained, and she rejoiced in it. Within a few 
seconds she had made a sort of stepping-block to 
the low window. The shutter, never fastened, 
yielded to her touch. 

As soon as it was opened she pushed, pulled, 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 195 

tugged, and finally tumbled Michael through the 
aperture ; and in this, of course, his mechanical 
obedience aided her, else she had not succeeded. 

There, Mr. Walsh ! That ’s very good. It ’s 
rough in here, but never mind. I know the way. 
The room is empty. Come.” 

They crossed the short distance safely, the light 
coming through the unglazed window showing 
them the way. Softly she raised the latch of the 
door and swung it inward. She had now but to 
roll the intervening blackboard sidewise along its 
grooves and she would have reached her goal ; 
ay, even to the very side of the man upon the 
platform beyond, who was so wonderful to save 
and to uplift. 

She whispered to the dull ears beside her, — 
Hark ! I hear a strange voice. No, that ’s 
Master, in the prayer. We must wait.'’ 

The girl and the drunkard — spirit and clod 
— became equally silent while the words of that 
petition fioated through the panel of wood and 
ling^ered echoing about them. Even after the 
deep Amen ! ” had resounded from various 
parts of that crowded room, Helen stood with 
bowed head and now swiftly throbbing heart, 
longing, yet dreading, to push that flimsy barrier 
aside and to bring this poor neighbor of hers 


196 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

unto that other marvel, who had himself lain afoul 
in the gutter, but who had now become a man 
and a helper of men. 

If only he would speak ! ” 

He did. 

She knew the voice on the instant, though, of 
course, she had never heard it before. 

This is the man with the message for Mike ! 
Quick — he must hear it ! ” 

The orator opened his lips, — 

My friends, once I was as — He waved 
his hands dramatically, outward, downward, to 
indicate the depths of his one-time degradation. 

It was at that instant that the blackboard panel 
rolled softly aside and there stood revealed in the 
opening the girl and the inebriate, — the spirit 
and the clod. 

Never before nor afterward to that gifted 
speaker, came an aid to his eloquence like this. 

Melodrama could not have designed it ; only 
reality could have rendered possible a climax so 
powerful. 

At the slight sound which the moving black- 
board made, the lecturer turned and his expressive 
gesture was arrested, half-finished. 

With each passing second, illuminated by the 
lights overhead, those two contrasting figures 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


197 


seemed to glow and intensify the purity and the 
defilement that is possible to the image of God.” 

In Michael, the rescuer beheld his former self. 
For a moment he gazed upon his prototype, while 
a profound hush stole through the room. One 
could hear the catch of a woman’s breath in the 
furthermost corner. Then he sank backwards 
into the chair provided for him and dropped his 
face in his hands. A tear ran down his cheek 
and glistened through his fingers, and a sob es- 
caped him. 

The sob was caught up and echoed somewhere. 
Another, and another. The audience, true, 
simple-hearted people who lived with nature, 
were on the verge of tears ; and as yet, of all 
there had been prepared to say, not a word had 
been spoken. 

When at last the tension of feeling had 
slightly relaxed, the lecturer again arose. There 
was now no attempt at oratory, at eloquence. 

My neighbors, the story is told. I came to 
teach and I have been taught. When God speaks 
let the people keep silence. Only, in His Name, 
are there any here who will sign the pledge ? ” 

The silence he had requested prevailed for a 
space, during which Helen and Michael remained 
standing at the back of the platform ; she with a 


198 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


slowly awakening consciousness that she was being 
regarded curiously by that sea of faces confronting 
her, and into the dullard’s brain a dim conception 
of the scene beginning to penetrate. 

Then the spell was broken. The Dominie and 
the stranger took each a long sheet of paper in 
hand, and the master read aloud the heading, the 
pledge, which was printed at the top of these 
white pages. 

They started to pass down the aisles between 
the desks, but progress was impossible ; nor, in- 
deed, was it necessary ; for now, comprehending, 
the people pressed forward, eager to set their 
signatures on that saving sheet. 

Yet first, before even one name was written, the 
lecturer stepped to Helen and offered her a pen. 

She did not understand, and looked up fright- 
ened. The exaltation which had possessed her 
was ebbing somewhat and she trembled, visibly. 

Your name, my child. Your innocent name 
must lead my list to-night ! ” 

And he, Michael ? May he sign, too ? ” 
Surely. Yes, yes. Or you — for him.” 

Then she seized the pen and wrote swiftly, and 
turning, held it toward the ragged fellow. 

He shook his head dumbly. 

Mike — it’s to promise you’ll let the drink 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


199 


alone. For Kitty’s sake ! Won’t you ? ” and she 
clasped her hands, entreating him. 

The man was sobering rapidly. The excite- 
ment around him, like a pungent chemical, had 
pierced to his clouded brain and cleared it. 

For Kitty’s sake ! ” What was there he 
would not do for Kitty, the flower of his flock 
and his idol ? 

Ay. I ’ll do aught for she.” 

^^But you must understand. You are never 
to taste that dreadful stufl any more. Never — 
any — more.” 

I understand.” 

Will you keep your word ?” 

Faith, but I ’ll thry.” 

Write, then.” 

No. Not I. Do you the writin’. Miss, like 
you ’ve done all the rist ; ” and he dropped his 
head shamefacedly. 

Helen remembered. Only a few days before, 
she had seen her father sign a paper for 
another, unlearned, and had questioned about 
it as she questioned all strange facts which came 
in her way. 

Michael Walsh + his mark.” 

It was done. Her miserable charge was saved. 
So she believed. 


200 


THE LITTLE RED SCTIOOLHOUSE. 


With a sigh of profoundest satisfaction, and 
with the physical relaxation that follows on such 
enthusiasm, the girl raised her eyes and again 
beheld that multitude. 

Now their bold glances seemed to scorch her. 
Why was she there ? What had she done ? 
Why, away backward, at the end of the room, 
hemmed in by all those other faces, should she 
come gradually to see only one face, white and 
stern, the face of her aunt Delight ? 

Why should that countenance stand out so 
clearly, with its patrician dignity of feature ? 
Was it because of its crown of snowy hair, or 
for the cold, disapproving gaze it fixed upon her ? 

Certainly, it was the face of a person totally 
unmoved by all that wave of emotion beating 
against it. 

Helen bowed her head and covered her eyes 
with her hands. She would have sunk down 
where she stood, but there came a leaping, fly- 
ing figure over those myriad heads and shoulders, 
a boyish, sustaining arm was thrown around her, 
and Phil’s voice was in her ear. 

Bravo ! my Nell ! See ! Here ’s my own 
name, close to yours ! ’’ 

She hid her face on his shoulder, and he 
turned his glance backward to where Dan’s 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


201 


tousle of tawny hair showed close beside Miss 
Sampson. 

“ Come, Dan ! Be next to me ! ” he shouted. 

Aunt Delight’s gaze sought the mountaineer’s 
eyes, calmly curious for his response. 

It came silently, with a negative shake of the 
head ; whereupon just the faintest sign of satis- 
faction revealed itself in the dilating of his 
benefactress’ delicate nostrils. 

Unfortunately, these two were not the only 
ones who beheld the dumb refusal Daniel had 
given. 

The lecturer, also, had seen and comprehended 
it ; maybe regretted and resented it ; for, rais- 
ing his arm to a level with his shoulder, he 
pointed his forefinger back\vard over the crowd, 
so steadfastly that all glances followed its guid- 
ance and fixed themselves on the young wood- 
lander. Then his voice rang out in those vibrant 
tones which made his every sentence so effective : 

There stands a youth who will fill a drunk- 
ard’s grave ! ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


TROUBLES BY THE WAY. 

^^"VTOW, Daniel, if we can gather our simple- 

J- ^ tons together let us get home. Thank 
goodness, you, at least, retained your common- 
sense.’^ 

Yes, Miss Sampson,” replied the lad, ab- 
sently, really heeding only the first part of her 
remark. Then he made way for her through the 
crowd which, thinned a little, still lingered about 
the building. 

“ Loath to take the plunge from excitement 
to hard facts,” thought Miss Delight, grimly 
smiling over a weakness to which she felt her- 
self superior. 

Then when they had gained a vantage point 
where they could watch the door, and await the 
appearance of their own party, both the lady and 
the lad drew a deep inspiration. The impulse was 
mutual, and again she was struck by the sympa- 
thy in their feeling. 

Then she asked : “ Daniel, how came it you 
did n’t lose your head in there, like all the rest ? ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 203 


He turned toward her, and by the moonlight 
she could see how earnest, even how angry, 
he looked. 

Miss Sampson, do you believe it ? ” 

“ What ? That you will die a drunkard’s 
death ? ” 

He nodded. 

‘^No, Daniel.” 

Thank you. Ma’am.” 

Yet, why did n’t you sign the pledge, when 
nearly all the others did ? ” 

I ’d a liked to, for Philip’s sake. ’Cause he 
asked me.” 

Tell me. I’m curious to know all you 
thought about it.” 

Yes ’m. I don’t know. Somehow I could n’t. 
You see, I hate promises.” 

Indeed ? ” Miss Sampson was more than 
ever interested. 

It ain’t, I mean it is n’t, hardly ever easy to 
keep ’em. They make me think o’ harnessin’ a 
colt. His spirit gets broke with the straps an’ 
things. I always feel dreadful sorry for the poor 
beast first time he puts his head through a 
halter.” 

Why, but Daniel ! The colt is useless until 
then.” 


204 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Yes, Ma’am. But it ’s losin’ his freedom. 
I ’d ruther be free, I guess. Besides, I got one 
halter on a’ ready.” His voice dropped low as 
he said this. 

You have ? What is it ? ” 

There was a pause. The boy broke it with a 
ring of manhood in his voice. 

It ’s my promise to you : that you should n’t 
be sorry you ’d helped me on the road to be — 
somebody. I guess that halter ’ll hold, ’ithout 
no straps o’ this here stranger’s fixin’.” 

Again she was astonished. 

Why, lad, that ’s poetry. Of tha best sort ; 
which has truth and wisdom in it. Where did 
you learn it ? ” 

Hmm. I don’t know. ’Less it was out in the 
woods. I did n’t have anything to do up there 
but chop an’ think. But there ’s Susan and 
Molly. I guess the others ’ll come soon. Shall 
I fetch the horse ? ” 

Yes. But we ’ll go home differently ; that 
is, Helen must ride with us. I ’ll take her in 
between Abraham and me. You and Philip had 
better see that Michael gets safely back to his 
cottage, for Helen will be anxious to know that 
he does. Silly child ! She is n’t afraid of ‘ har- 
nessing ’ herself with promises ! ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 205 

They were presently again on the road, in the 
order elected by Miss Sampson, and Helen very 
gladly nestled down between her elders on the 
front seat, where she could rally from the excite- 
ment of the evening and yet keep her eye upon 
the rescued Michael, walking soberly along 
beside the wagon, with Philip and Daniel as his 
body-guards. 

When they reached the cottage, however, the 
girl begged Abraham to stop, for just one 
minute, while I go in and tell Maggie the good 
news. May I not. Aunt Delight ? ” 

Well, yes. I suppose you may as well finish 
up the job. Only, see to it that you don’t go 
pledging yourself to act as his spiritual god- 
mother from this day forward. You’ve helped 
to set him on his feet ; now he must balance him- 
self there. Five minutes only.” 

Yet this remark, somehow, took all the pleas- 
ure out of the announcement for Helen. She 
realized anew that her aunt was seriously dis- 
pleased with her, and this grieved her greatly, 
yet she did not understand exactly what she had 
done to rouse this displeasure. 

Nor was Maggie Walsh’s reception of the 
news of her husband’s reformation especially 
flattering. 


/ 


206 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Sign a pledge, did he ? Well, it ain’t the 
first time he ’s done a foolish thing. He won’t 
keep it. Miss. He ’s promised me, more times 
’an I ’ve fingers an’ toes, to let the drink alone. 
He always lies. He’s lyin’ now. Though you 
mean well. Miss, ’an I ’m obliged to you just the 
same. There, Mike. Say your manners an’ let 
the young lady go. It ’s long past bed-time an’ 
I don’t want the childern woke up ag’in this 
time ’o night.” 

With a heavy heart Helen retreated at once 
and crept silently into her place beside Miss 
Sampson ; but Philip tarried long enough to 
give Mistress Margaret a good dressing down ” 
for receiving the good offices of his young cousin 
so ungraciously. The absurd part of the whole 
matter was, that the woman liked the angry lad 
and his reprimand a deal betther nor that soft- 
spoken chit of a girl ’at ’d let a fellow like Mike 
fool her so easy.” 

However, when the mother’s Peace Room ” 
was reached there was comfort at last, and some 
crooked things were made straight to the girl’s 
understanding. 

You see, my darling, that Aunt Delight was 
reared in the most rigid of schools ; that, in her 
code, a young lass who becomes at all conspicu- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 207 

ous, even in a good cause, loses in modesty ; and 
modesty is to her a woman’s cardinal virtue.” 

“ But, Mamma ! Was n’t it — right ? Is n’t 
right-doing higher than modesty ? Besides — I 
did n’t know I was bold. I did n’t once think of 
myself. I had to act as I did. There was some- 
thing driving me beyond myself. After it was 
over, after Mike had signed the pledge, I began 
to realize how many people were looking at me 
and I wanted to hide. But I could n’t. Oh ! I 
hope I did n’t do wrong! ” 

The mother stretched out her frail arms and 
gathered her child to her breast. 

Wrong ! Wrong, my Helen! No, indeed. 
You have acted from the best and purest mo- 
tive. I believe God gave it. Remember nothing, 
save that Michael has promised to reform, and 
that we must help him to stand upright in every 
way that we can. And besides Michael, your 
action has done one inestimable good.” 

What ’s that. Mamma ? ” lifting her head 
and searching her mother’s face. 

^‘Philip. He wouldn’t have signed if you 
had n’t. It was his love for and chivalry to- 
ward you that made him step up and place 
himself beside you, and it was that, with the 
enthusiasm of the moment, which made him 


208 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

write his name to a promise he had never at all 
considered. But — I am glad of it. More glad 
and thankful to God this night than I can ex- 
press. So, also, will Aunt Delight be, later on.” 

Can you tell me, Mamma, just what you 
mean ? ” 

I will. I had not meant to trouble you with 
my anxieties about our boy, but — such a little 
woman is wise enough to know, I now think. 
Philip is a gentleman, and he thinks more of 
keeping his word than of anything else in the 
world. He will do all sorts of wild and for- 
bidden things, but I have never known him to 
tell a lie. He will keep his pledge, and I hope 
it will keep him — to the right in other ways.” 

«« Why, Mamma ! You look so grave. What 
has he done ? ” 

He is fretting against the restraints of our 
quiet life. He has organized a ^ club ’ of the 
wildest, gayest lads in the valley. There have 
been times when your father has been greatly 
perplexed as to whether we should keep Philip 
still here or send him away to some strict 
school.” 

Is it the ^ club’ which meets at the old mill ? ” 

Yes. They have wild fun there, I fear ; and 
sometimes when we think our lad is asleep in his 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


209 


bed, he is off — who can tell' where ? There, 
darling. Don’t let this be a fresh worriment to 
you, but a comfort that you have acted to-night 
exactly as you have. Try to make Sampson 
House the most delightful spot on earth to our 
laddie. If we can hold him to the right for just 
a little while longer he will get wisdom with his 
years, and love right-doing for itself. Anyway, 
now I know that, whatever else he may do, he 
will not drink. Good-night. Here comes Papa 
and bed-time. You have had much that is new 
to think about, and to-morrow I’ll talk more 
plainly with you, if I can.” 

But even the morrow’s explanations did not 
make matters much clearer to Helen. Philip 
appeared exactly as he always had ; and the 
fact that he came to her just before school and 
asked her to lend him a half-dollar did not very 
greatly surprise her. 

Why, boy ! You have ten times, yes, forty 
times almost, as much money as I do, and you ’re 
always out of it ! What do you do with it ? ” 
Phil tossed his head and flushed angrily. 

Well, if you don’t want to let me have it — ” 

Of course I want to, all I have. But the 
map cost a lot of money, and I cannot give you 
much.” 


14 


210 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


“ How much 

I think — Let ’s count it. You shall have 
all there is. Only hurry. I don’t want to be 
late to school.” 

You won’t be. It ’s beginning to snow, and 
Uncle is to send Abraham and the sleigh.” 

Sleighing, so soon ? It ’s been snowing such 
a little while.” 

She ran to the window to examine the drive- 
way and the lad called, impatiently : — 

Oh ! Nell, the money ! Bother the snow ! ” 

There ’s the sleigh now, and Abraham’s 
cross. Must you have it — now ? This morn- 
ing?” 

Yes.” 

At which she ran away up to her own room, 
and presently returned with her little tin sav- 
ings-bank ” in her hand. It was of an old- 
fashioned sort, and the only way to get the 
contents out was to shake them slowly through 
the little chimney. 

Helen began this operation, but her haste 
hindered her success, and when Aunt Delight’s 
footsteps were heard approaching, Philip lost his 
last atom of .patience and, catching the bank, 
dropped it to the floor and crushed it under 
his foot. 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 211 

Oh ! Phil ! my pretty bank ! ’’ 

Hush ! Don’t tell Auntie 1 ” 

He stooped, caught up the ruined toy and its 
scattered contents, and thrust them hastily into 
his pockets. 

Here she comes! Nell, if you tell her I’ll 
never forgive you. Never. Promise you won’t.” 

The lad looked so determined and so strange 
that the promise was uttered instantly and with- 
out thought. 

You won’t ? 

^^No.” 

All right.” 

Philip disappeared and Helen tried to make 
up for lost time by running out of the house 
with her cloak unfastened, buttoning it as she 
ran. 

But Miss Sampson met her in the passage 
and made her return to the sitting-room, and : 

Fix yourself properly, child. There ’s no such 
haste required as will send a girl out-of-doors 
on a winter morning in that shape.” 

The return to the inner apartment was, per- 
haps, unfortunate for both. Helen’s glance de- 
tected at once a fragment of her blue-painted 
little bank and a silver coin lying beside it, 
which Philip in his hurry had overlooked. 


212 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Aunt Delight’s eyes were still as sharp as a 
girl’s,” so she often boasted. They were quite 
“ sharp ” enough to see the gay scrap of tin as 
promptly as had Helen, and housewifely instinct 
made the old lady stoop to pick it up before the 
other could reach it. 

Why, Nell! What’s this?” 

Helen’s cheeks reddened, almost as deeply as 
her hood, yet she answered, presently : — 

Excuse me, Auntie, but I cannot tell you. 
May I go ? ” 

When I ’ve done with you — yes. ' Is this 
a piece of your savings-bank? It looks so.” 

Nell’s surprise at her aunt’s quickness made 
the affirmative answer in the sudden uplifting 
of her own eyes, but she did not otherwise 
reply. 

Hmm. I thought as much.” 

The lady stepped to the window, raised the 
sash, and called sternly : — 

Philip 1 Come here.” 

The lad, waiting in the sleigh outside and 
pelting snowballs at Molly in the doorway, 
obeyed the summons promptly, by leaping 
through the still open window. By this means 
he deposited a goodly lot of the freshly fallen 
snow upon the carpet, which did n’t trouble him 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 213 

in the least, as he bounded forward to the middle 
of the room and clasped his snow-powdered arms 
around his guardian. 

Well, most Delightful Aunt of all the Samp- 
sons, what is it this time ? That mince pie I 
hooked last night, or something still more 
dreadful ? 

Philip, have you taken to begging pennies 
from a girl? You — with your far too liberal 
allowance ! 

The lad’s arms fell from Miss Sampson’s 
shoulders and he faced about to his cousin, his 
ready temper in a blaze : — 

Humph ! So you. Miss, call yourself a Samp- 
son ! But — they never — lie ! ” 

Having hurled this scathing reproach at the 
trembling Helen, he leaped back through the 
window and disappeared. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE GREAT SNOWSTORM. 

HE snowfall which began that morning 



i lasted, with brief intermissions, for nearly 
a week. At the end of that time ^^the whole 
valley,” meaning all the able-bodied men and 
lads, turned out to break roads. 

For five days there had been no school, and 
the little red building at the cross-ways looked 
like a crimson dot in the wide white landscape. 

But it ’ll never do to let the cause of eddica- 
tion languish like this. When I was a boy, we 
went to school, snow or no snow, an’ the teacher 
was there ahead on us,” remarked Deacon Tewks- 
bury, to his man-of-all-work. 

Reckon they did n’t have no sech snows 
them times, sir. I never seed none to ekal 


this ’n.” 


Pooh! Folks grow lazier as they grow older. 
I mean this generation ain’t half so smart as the 
last one was. Hitch up Solomon to once, an’ 
let ’s git to work. I ’ll just call an’ see how 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


215 


many days’ vacation that old patriarch means 
to take. A vacation, right here in the depth o’ 
term time ! If we had a younger man now 
fer teacher — ” 

“ He ’d cut stakes an’ quit entire ! No man 
what don’t love the valley is a goin’ to stan’ sech 
a blockade as this.” 

Harness Solomon, I tell ye.” 

The Deacon felt no kinder toward Dominie 
Davidson than he had done on the afternoon of 
his unfortunate visit to the school. The momen- 
tary softness which had then come into his heart, 
by the stirring of old memories, had promptly 
changed into a more adamantine hardness, because 
of the trick played upon his wagon later on that 
same day. 

The perpetrator of this trick had never been 
discovered. Daniel and Philip still stoutly denied 
their connection with the matter, and after a 
little inquiry, secretly prosecuted, the Deacon 
had suddenly let the whole matter drop. This 
had been set down to his piety by some of the 
valley folk — Such a good man is Deacon I ’’ 

But there were others who thought they knew 
him better. These believed that lie was merely 
biding his time, and that retribution would come 
later and more completely. 


216 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

He don’t want to get out with Doctor, or the 
other trustees, yet. He ’s workin’ underground, 
is Tewksbury. He ’s like a bull dog. Once he 
gets set of anything he don’t let go ; an’ if he 
don’t growl none, ’t ain’t a sign he’s let loose.’’ 

Soon after had come the excitement of the 
temperance lecture, and the old master’s rise in 
popularity because of his service in securing the 
orator to the valley, even for one night. All the 
temperate people who had then pledged them- 
selves to total abstinence felt that they owed the 
Dominie a debt of gratitude. Clearly, then, it 
was not the time to attack a man who was so 
deep in the hearts of his neighbors as the gentle 
pedagogue. 

Now this “ great snowstorm ” had arrived and 
brought with it a fresh excuse for faultfinding. 

For five days the Deacon had watched the 
schoolhouse chimney, from the window of his 
own comfortable sitting-room, and never once 
had the blue smoke curled upward from it. The 
snow heaped it and the playground path remained 
unbroken. 

^^Hmm. That’s a burniiT shame. Here I am, 
trustee. A-payin’ out the people’s money. Fer 
what ? A rheumatic old feller to lie abed an’ 
grunt. Hmm. We’ll see about that.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 217 

Yet, still mindful of rheumatism, — his own, — 
the worthy public officer had delayed his visit of 
interference till the snow was over. Then, when 
at last the sun shone again, he had ordered his 
hired man as above. 

By daily, almost hourly, shovellings, the paths 
immediately about the Deacon’s domicile had 
been kept passable. This deceived him into 
believing that anybody could travel along the 
roads whose business made it desirable, and he 
announced to his wife, at dinner : — 

I ’m goin’ to see what ’s got into Dominie 
Davidson to be idlin’ ’round this way. I ’ll 
jest let him have a piece o’ my mind, you 
’low.” 

Mrs. Tewksbury had been her husband’s wife 
for a great many years. She had learned when 
silence was golden ” and speech was silver ; ” 
so, since something was evidently expected of her 
in the way of reply, she flung this small coin of 
her speech ” down for what it was worth : — 
Laws, now, ’Lijah. You ’ll only get yourself 
wore out fer nothin’. A man can’t do no more ’n 
his duty, an’ quarrelin’ ’ll keep. ’Specially in sich 
weather.” With which she turned her cross- 
eyed glance toward the window and sighed 
profoundly. 


218 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

What do you mean by that, woman ? ” 

^^Oh! nothin’. Only th’ other trustees don’t 
worry so over the plaguey old school.” 

Being her husband’s sole companion during 
their late enforced seclusion, and the school 
being his sole subject of conversation, she may 
be pardoned a slight testiness, due to her soul- 
weariness. 

‘^Hmin. The ^plaguey old school.’ Hmm, 
indeed. The — plaguey — old — school. Huh 1 
Silly women. Sho. Well, I’m goin’. Has 
that man gone to harness that horse,' or has he 
not? That’s what I’d like to know.” 

He ’s a harnessin’,’’ replied the dame, meekly. 
There was even a ring of pleasure in her tones ; 
and the alacrity with which she now bestirred 
herself to make her lord comfortable upon his 
outing might have aroused, in any close observer’s 
mind, the suspicion that she was glad to have 
him go. 

But there was no observer there, except the 
cat ; and that had been kicked out of the Deacon’s 
path often enough during that past week to hide 
itself now behind the air-tight stove and merely 
blink its sympathy with its mistress. 

So Mrs. Tewksbury fetched the fur cap and 
put it on her husband’s head, pulling its flaps 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


219 


well down over his ears and tying them under 
his chin. She buttoned his greatcoat, which 
had seen the snows of thirty winters and whose 
pristine black was fading to a rich green on the 
shoulders. She tied a striped woollen ^^com- 
forter ” around his neck, and pulled on his white 
tufted ” mittens. His trouser-legs were already 
tucked into his cowhide boots, and nothing further 
suggested itself which would add to his safety ; so, 
Solomon being now in the shafts of the pung, the 
good man bade his wife a characteristic farewell : 

“ Don’t give them chickens too much corn. 
An’ I hope you ’ll have somethin’ decent fer 
supper. Apple turnover, er roast potatoes, er 
somethin’ another. Now I’m off.” 

Yes, but I ’m dretful ’fraid you won’t get no 
further ’n the gate,” assented Mrs. Tewksbury, 
from the threshold. 

^^What you mean by that?” 

Her tone had been low, but not quite low 
enough to hide her satisfaction and doubt. 

Nothin’. The roads ain’t broke a mite, you 
know.” 

I ’ve got shovels an’ crowbars,” remarked 
the hired man. 

Reckon you ’ll need ’em ; ” said the woman, 
and shut the door. 


220 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


They did need them. Half-way to the gate, 
giving from the front yard to the turnpike. 
Solomon floundered in a drift up to his body, 
and Nathan turned to his employer, on the seat 
beside him, expostulating. 

Better give it up. Deacon. We Ve got all we 
need to eat an’ drink an’ keep warm with, an’ 1 
call it real foolhardy to ’tempt to go.” 

Misguided man ! Even by his mistress’ daily 
example, Nathan could never learn that opposi- 
tion always made his master more headstrong. 

“ ’Tempt to go ! Attempt to go ! Well, then, 
I ’m a goin’ an’ you ’re a goin’ with me. Huh ! 
Think I ’d be downed by a snowstorm ? By — a 
— snowstorm ! Huh ! Drive on.” 

It ’ll be shovel on fust, I guess.” 

Shovel, then. ’T ain’t nothin’ but a drift. 
Always did drift in this lane.” 

Nathan obediently stepped out of the pung 
and as immediately disappeared. He had sunk 
to his armpits in the drift and in trying to 
extricate himself had been wholly engulfed. 

The Deacon roared aloud. 

Ginger ! That ’s the funniest thing I ever 
did see ! Here ! Stick your arm up — give me 
a holt ! I ’ll pull ye out ! ” 

May — be — funny — fer — you ! ” remarked 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 221 

the hired man, as he was finally yanked back in- 
to the vehicle, sputtering the snow from his 
mouth meanwhile. 

Ho, ho, ho ! Why, I declare ! After bein’ 
shut up in the house fer a week, with nobody 
but a woman an’ you an’ the cat as company, it 
does a man good to get out into the fresh air 
again. Gosh. It makes me feel as spry as a 
boy. Here. Hand me a shovel. I ’ll soon get 
Solomon a movin’. We’ll go back to the barn 
an’ hitch up to the sled. It ’s weightier. Like 
as not we ’d break the pung, a-draggin’ through 
heaps. Sho. Feel like a kitten, I do.” 

Getting Solomon started was not so easy as 
anticipated. It required much digging, more 
pulling, and Nathan’s strongest expletives (though 
as a good church- member he kept these reason- 
ably mild), to finally get the horse back again 
upon the shovelled path. 

By this time the Deacon’s blood was fully up. 
Even his enemies (all good men have them) 
had never accused him of indolence. He had, 
instead, the name of being a hard driver to 
work,” and it needed but slight opposition to set 
his will, like steel, to any object. 

Well, snow or no snow, to Dominie David- 
son’s I’m a goin’. He’d ought to be looked 


222 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

after, any how. He’s old. He ’s dretful old, ’an 
sorter childish. Maybe he could n’t get to school. 
Maybe I ’ve been too hard in judgment, I ain’t 
too proud to say I ’m sometimes mistook. But, 
whuther I be or no, we ’ll jest drive over there 
an’ see into things. I ought to remember, too, 
’at Ruelly Hapgoo.d is widder to my second 
cousin, an’ her boy ’s near o’ kin as anybody 
they is. Long ’s old Davidson needs her, an’ she 
bein’ own niece to him, I’m more ’n willin she 
should live there. One silly woman ’s all I can 
Stan’ to a time. But when Mis’ Tewksbury gets 
too old to do the work, why then, I s’pose, I ’ll 
take Ruelly in.” 

They had made their way back to the barn by 
then, and were exchanging the light pung for 
the wood-sled ; to which, in evident disgust, 
Solomon now found himself being reharnessed. 

Well, folks think she come back here to the 
valley after her man died, more on account o’ 
your bein’ her kin, or his ’n, an’ the boy likely to 
inherit,” said Nathan. 

Humph. Don’t know what she c’d base her 
expectations on. Ye ’d better buckle that hold- 
back a couple o’ holes tighter.” 

Reckon Sol won’t need nothin’ 'cept the 
drifts to hold him back to-day. But that ’s what 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


223 


a man gets, you see, fer bein’ ’counted the rich- 
est man in the valley. They say they ’s more 
money locked up in your hands, maybe in your 
house, ’an ever was even to Sampson House, in 
its best days,” continued the other, flatteringly. 
“ There. Guess that ’s all right. But I ’low we 
can’t get there.” 

“ An’ I ’low we ’ll get there or — I ’ll bust my- 
self a try in’. Hold on, though. Speakin’ of 
money. That reminds me. I ’ll jest step inside 
the house a minute. Don’t let him start till I 
come back.” 

Humph ! Sol, he hain’t no notion o’ startin’ 
ary place, ness it ’s back to his stall.” 

Mrs. Tewksbury, having settled herself for a 
nap in her rocker beside the air-tight, with the 
cat in her lap, felt a bitter disappointment when 
the stamping and shaking of snow announced 
her husband’s prompt return to the house. 

She roused herself and dropped the cat on the 
mat, just in time to receive the reprimand : — 

Huh ! Goin’ to sleep, are you, this time o’ 
day ? Ought to get up an’ stir round. Make a 
new woman o’ you, right off.” 

Can’t you go ? Can’t you break the roads ? ” 
a trifle wistfully. 

Course we can go. I only come back — 


224 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Sho ! Mis’ Tewksbury, have you been taking 
my money out of my pocket ? ” 

This question was hurled at the drowsy woman 
in her husband’s sternest Sunday voice. 

Money out of your pocket ? I never touched 
a cent of it, uther in nor out, hardly, sence 1 
married you. No. But — ” 

But what ? Don’t keep me standin’ here — ” 
I ’m sure I don’t want to, — a-meltin’ snow 
all over that new rag carpet. But I seen you 
take your wallet out o’ that coat an’ put it in 
your desk. I guess you ’ll find it jest wdiere you 
laid it yourself, if you look.” 

“ Why could n’t you say so, then ? ” 

Mrs. Tewksbury relapsed into her chair again. 
But she noted that her husband did find the 
wallet, a fat, well-filled one, and dispose it in one 
of the pockets of the undercoat he then wore. 
She remarked, casually : — 

‘‘I don’t think it ’s right for you to keep so 
much money in the house, anyway, ’Lijah. It ’s 
a temptin’ Providence.” 

That ’s what I think. If any scalliwag should 
come here while I was gone you ’d be jest silly 
enough to tell ’em where the money was, if he 
asked for it. There ’s three hunderd dollars 
in that wallet, — all I got for them three horses 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 225 

1 sold down to Polinquet. It ’s what I expect t6 
pay for that land I'm goin to get o’ Hobson.” 

Hmm. Sometimes, Mr. Tewksbury, I do 
think you ’re just land-crazy. It ’s buy, buy, buy, 
all the while. An’ not a chick nor a child — 
save — ” 

She paused suddenly. A look had come into 
her husband’s face which always terrified her. 
She shivered a bit, then, hoping to propitiate him 
as well as to cover her own emotion, asked, 
gently : — 

What would you like for your supper, Elijah, 
— of them things you mentioned ? ” 

A wife ’at knows enough to hold her tongue ! ” 
he retorted savagely, and went out, banging the 
door. 

The woman left behind dared not to weep. 
Red eyes are not easily hidden when one grows 
old. So she busied herself in putting the room 
in order and telling the cat : — 

^^It was n’t losin’ the money by folks, kitty, ’at 
I meant. ’Lijah, he ’s always expectin’ to get 
robbed ; though sech a thing never happened to 
nobody in this neighborhood, as long ’s I ’ve lived ; 
an’ that ’s a good many years, kitty, — a good 
many lonesome years. Oh ! where is he ? My — 
But I must n’t I I — must — not. It ’s only fire I 
15 


226 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 


worry ^bout. If the house ever should ketch afire, 
an' if the Deacon should have money in it when 
it burned, an' if I did n’t think to take it out in 
time, I don't know what he ’d do to me. But, 
bein' ’s we 're alone, kitty, let 's jest step up attic 
an' look — " 

When once they had ascended thither it was 
the odor of mice that sent Mistress Kitty a-scamper 
about that wide garret ; and it was a drawer full 
of boy's clothing, rude and patched, which sent 
Martha Tewksbury's gray head down till her fore- 
head rested against the sharp edge of the wood, 
and that made the unwished-for tears to flow 
among the furrows of her thin cheeks. 

Yet she heeded neither the edge nor the tears ; 
nor that, by and by, the daylight waning, she 
was still alone. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


TO FOLLOW THE CROW S FLIGHT. 


y^EACON, we’d better quit. Ain’t no 
JL^ manner o’ use. Here we ’ve been strainin’ 
an’ diggin’ fer more ’n two hours, an’ yet we hain’t 
got no further ’n the fust bend the ’pike. Let ’s 
give up.” 

Never. I’ve started for Davidson’s an’ to 
Davidson’s I ’m a goin’ or bust myself shovellin’. 
What ’s all this fuss about, any way, ’cept a mite 
o’ snowdrift ? ” 

I ’low ’t is a might o’ snowdrift,” returned 
the other, chuckling over his own witty play upon 
words. 

Deacon Tewksbury had not understood the jest, 
and now failed to see any cause for his helper’s 
unseemly merriment. 

Huh ! Must ha’ found a tee-hee’s nest in it, 
then. I will say it sounds uncommon simple fer 
a great feller like you, Nathan, to stan’ right up 
in a snow-heap an’ cackle like a hen’s just laid 
her egg.’’ 


228 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

I don’t feel very cackly, boss. I’m 
gettin’ dretfnl tired an’ sorter light-headed.” 

The trustee paused and regarded the hired man 
with some anxiety. 

‘‘You ain’t a-goin’ to have one o’ your spells, 
be ye, Nate ? ” 

“Not if I can help it, sure. But this here 
snow’s so — so all alike, an’ the sun ’s so blindin’, 
things is a gettin’ real zigzaggy. ’Pears like I 
c’d see rainbows everywhere, an’ — I ’d ruther go 
back.” 

“ Just hold on awhile ; then, if we don’t strike 
it easier, you may.” 

They started forward doggedly again, and for 
sometime neither spoke. But their progress was 
almost imperceptible, and finally the Deacon 
paused, after extricating Solomon’s unlucky legs, 
for about the hundredth time, from the engulfing 
snow. 

“ Plague take this turnpike, anyway ! It ’s 
crookeder ’an sin.” 

“We ain’t goin’ t’ argy that to-day, Deacon,” 
responded the serving man, wearily. 

“Who’s argyin’? You, if anybody. You may 
be dizzy, Nathan, but you’re a blamed sight 
snappier an’ you be dizzy. Now I — ” 

“ It ’s you ’s the snappy one, I should jedge. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 229 

but I ain’t a complainin’ of it. Nobody could 
tackle this road-break an’ not be, I ’low.” 

There was no retort as the Deacon stood up 
and carefully surveyed the landscape. It was 
one wide, unbroken whiteness ; even the trees 
which would have served for landmarks, to indi- 
cate where the buried highway ran, were so 
hidden by the heaping snow that they were no 
longer guides. 

In any case, the way was a long one ; for the 
turnpike followed the river, and the river fol- 
lowed its own will ; wandering back and forth 
through the valley, in many graceful curves 
which the settlers of that fair region had wisely 
utilized for dwelling-places. So that the vagaries 
of both river and turnpike were but added charms 
to the valley homes, and few complained that it 
took four miles of road to accomplish a distance 
of one, had the river been ignored or bridged 
more frequently. 

Deacon Tewksbury, however, was an exception, 
who did assert at every town meeting that the 
road was too all-fired crooked an’ ought to 
be straightened, if a man ’s time was wuth 
anything ; ” to which his neighbors replied : 

Time ’s plenty in our valley, an’ horse flesh is 
cheap. Our fathers was n’t fools. They built 


230 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


the ’pike, an’ I reckon what wuz good enough 
fer them is good enough fer us.” 

It ’s hard lines to be progressive in a hole 
like this ! ” the trustee would retort, and was 
always asked why he remained in the ^^hole,” 
and proved his fondness for it by constantly buy- 
ing land and more land ; adding acre to acre, 
wherever he could, and steadily increasing his 
possessions till some, like Miss Sampson, would 
exclaim : If we don’t take care the man will 

own the whole valley soon ! ” 

Thus it was small wonder that Nathan’s spirits 
sank at the prospect of shovelling all the rounda- 
bout way to Davidson s,” and that lugubrious 
sighs escaped his grim lips each time he lifted 
his snow-blinded eyes. 

Look a here, Nate Heard ! You quit takin’ 
on that way. I ain’t to blame fer the road bein’ 
ten times longer ’n it ought to be. You know 
that. An’ as the crow flies, it ain’t above a mile 
cross-lots to the Dominie’s. With this state o’ 
things we can drive that way just as easy as by 
the ’pike, — right over the walls an’ fences. So, 
head Solomon toward Davidson’s, cross country.” 

All right.” 

Yet heading Solomon in the desired direction 
and persuading Solomon to follow his head were 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 231 

two distinct matters. The Deacon floundered to 
the rear of the sled and hoisted that unwieldy 
vehicle to the top of the nearest drift, where it 
immediately sank several feet. Nathan yanked 
at the bit-rings and yelled lustily: — 

Giddap, Sol ! Now you 're a pullin’ ! now — ” 
“ What-ye-otter-there ? ” echoed the Deacon 
from behind, in that tone of voice which the wise 
and wary Solomon was accustomed to obey. 

But customs and precedents were, in that strait, 
matters of no account ; and after a while longer 
of almost unavailing struggle, which still showed 
no loss of determination upon the Deacon’s grim 
face, Nathan tried his last resort. 

^‘Deacon, they ’s a bad holler ’twixt here an’ 
the Dominie’s, you recollect ? If we should hap- 
pen to strike that, an’ Sol should go overhead 
in ’t, an’ I should have — I feel — Swon ! I ’m 
gettin’ terr ble dizzy.” 

Sho, now, Nathan, don’t get silly. You aint 
goin’ to have a spell, right out here in the medder, 
now he ye ? ” 

The medder ! The snowbank ! The north 
pole an’ ar’tic regions ! Yes, I flow I will have a 
spell. Things, that is, the snow, is gettin^ more 
zigzaggier an’ cur’user-colored all the time.” 

The Deacon was frightened. Nathan’s speech, 


232 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLSOUSE. 

begun in half-pretence, had ended in entire ear- 
nestness, and a peculiar look was growing upon 
the heated face of the afflicted man. Though the 
elder, the master was much the stronger of the 
two, and he now promptly decided that, so far as 
Nathan was concerned, the attempt to reach 

Davidson’s ” was hopeless. 

‘^Now, look here, boy. You hold on an’ keep 
yourself steady. We ’ll turn about, an’ I ’ll go as 
far as in sight o’ home with ye, an’ you can get 
the rest the way by yourself. Solomon ’ll take 
you, even if you do lose your senses a mite. 
Plank down on the sled an’ we ’ll start.” 

Oh ! ’t ain’t so bad as that, I guess. I can 
help some — yet,” replied Nathan, and he did; 
for the prospect of reaching his own comfortable 
quarters at the Deacon’s fireside was restoration 
in itself. Nor did he pay any attention to the 
words ^^as far as in sight” — for he believed 
that once on the retreat the valiant leader of this 
forlorn expedition would not pause till he had, 
also, reached home surroundings. 

Now, you talk sense. Deacon. ’T ain’t safe, 
to life ner limb, a-flyin’ in the face o’ Providence, 
like we ’ve been a-doin’ this last few hours. 
They ’ll be road-breakin’ parties, a dozen er more 
in a lot, as they ’d oughter be, an’ they ’ll come 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


233 


an’ dig us out, when they get round to it. Mean- 
while, we can get rested.” 

^^You mean, you can take care the stawk 
an’ look after what Mis’ Tewksbury may need, 
while I jog on to the Dominie’s,” corrected the 
Deacon, and Nathan wisely let the matter rest 
there. 

The return over the partially broken road, 
with a warm stable and well filled manger at 
the end of it, proved highly acceptable to the 
shrewd Solomon ; and in far less time than 
it had required for the outward trip he had 
retraced his way as far as ‘Hhe turn of the 
’pike” whence the Tewksbury farmhouse could 
plainly be seen. 

There the Deacon called a halt. 

Now, Nathan, you can get the rest the way 
safe enough. Tell Mis’ Tewksbury I ’m just 
goin’ to step over to Davidson’s, ’cross-lots, an’ 
see how they ’re a-gettin’ on. Have her keep the 
supper hot ; an’, after you’ve done up the night 
chores, if you still feel dizzy, why, ask her to 
brew ye some sage tea an’ put a few drops o’ 
‘ composition’ in it. Drink the stuff hot an’ put 
a hot brick to your feet an’ go to bed. You ’ll 
be all right, soon ’s you do. It ’s a pity you ain’t 
no ruggeder, Nate. I’m afeard if ye don’t brace 


234 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


up more you won’t never make old bones. Hmm. 
No. Well, I ’m off now.” 

Deacon, Deacon 1 Don’t. Hold on. Come 
back ! Fer yer own sake, don’t ’tempt crossin’ 
them lots an’ that Holler to-night. It ’s nigh 
sundown, a’ready. Be dark afore ye know it. 
Don’t see where the'arternoon’s gone, anyway.” 

But the rising wind, fierce and bitterly cold, 
which now swept the fresh snow upward in 
blinding sheets of whiteness, drowned the warn- 
ing voice. The Deacon bent his head to the blast 
and turned doggedly toward Davidson’s ” while 
Solomon ploughed steadily away from him toward 
home ; and in a very few seconds both master 
and man had each passed utterly out of sight 
of the other. 



“The Deacon bent liis head to the blast and turned doggedly 
toward • Davidson’s.’ ” 





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CHAPTER XXII. 


A WORK OF RESCUE. 

T T ERE, you boys ! Tumble out and get 

JlX dressed instantly ! Hear ? ' ’ 

It seemed to Philip that he had but just closed 
his eyes, after the hardest day’s labor he had ever 
accomplished, and he was not inclined to answer 
the imperative summons which at last penetrated 
his drowsy brain. 

Dan ! Philip ! Get up ! You ’re needed ! 
At once ! ” 

Daniel heard, and responded by running out of 
his room to the head of the stairs and demanding 
to know what was the matter. 

As soon as a reply was called back to him he 
burst into Phil’s room and unceremoniously pulled 
that sleepy lad from his warm bed. 

Get up, boy ! Quick ! There ’s a man lost 
in the snow ! We ’re ordered out to search for 
him ! ” 

Both boys had been helping to break roads 
nearly all that day past, and their muscles were 


236 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

sore with the unusual strain of the continual 
shovelling. But the words man lost ” ban- 
ished every sense of personal discomfort, and 
as soon as he had comprehended what w^as said 
to him, Philip followed his mate’s example and 
‘‘threw himself into his clothes.” 

They w^ere dressed and had bounded down 
the stairs, several steps at a time, almost be- 
fore the Doctor, who had aroused them, had 
gotten himself into his great-coat and had tied 
his fur cap over his ears ; while Aunt Delight 
— in a nondescript costume donned for the 
emergency, stuffed all sorts of restoratives into 
the capacious saddle-bags and poured forth a 
stream of advice as to what should be done 
in this calamity. 

“ Don't go and make the poor fellow too warm, 
Lyon, now will you ? Not at first. Thaw him 
out gently. Poor Mrs. Tewksbury — what lots 
of trouble she has had ! ” 

It was a sign of extreme excitement on Miss 
Sampson’s part that she omitted to call her 
niece’s husband by his title and addressed him 
by his name, “ Lyon.” 

“ What ’s up. Auntie ? Who is it lost ? ” 

“ Phil ! You going ? Now, Doctor — 

“ Of course they ’re going. Aunt Delight. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 237 

They ’re almost men in stature if not in years, 
and every pair of hands is needed now. Wrap 
yourselves up well, lads, and each take a lantern. 
Then follow me down the road as fast as you 
can.” 

The physician was out of the house, into his 
sleigh, and off over the driveway in an instant. 
They could hear the musical, old-fashioned bells 
jingling faintly and more faint ; while Abraham’s 
hoarse adjurations to old Carey, distinct at first, 
died softly away in the distance : — 

“ Take care, there, lady ! You ’ll have us 
over ! Steady, old — horse ! It ’s — life — and 
— death — this — ” 

Many and many a time had master and man 
driven out of those grounds at a breakneck speed 
on errands of almost equal necessity, but never 
once over such a road as this, nor for an interest 
so widespread. 

All day, like everybody else in the Valley who 
could handle a pick or shovel, they had been out, 
toiling to make a passage for the physician to 
his scattered patients ; from whom he had been 
kept by the terrible storm for all the time of its 
continuance, when to venture forth into the 
blinding snowfall would have been to court 
death. 


238 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Now, after all the labor, after all the hurried 
visiting from one bedside to another, himself 
well-nigh exhausted, the Doctor had returned to 
his own house to find the cruel wind already fill- 
ing the fresh-broken paths with the merciless 
drifts. 

All to be done over again to-morrow, and 
harder than before ; for this time the snow is 
packing hard and firm.” 

^^But the night is to rest you in, Papa dear,” 
Helen had answered, and had herself bathed 
the cold feet and drawn on the warm slippers, 
and done her simple best to make her father 
comfortable. 

Then he had sent them all to bed, and had 
himself fallen asleep before the fireplace, filling 
himself full of the delicious warmth and peace- 
fulness of home. 

Deacon Tewksbury ’s lost somewhere in the 
snow ! ” 

This was the brief story which had been hurled 
in at the door of Sampson House and into the 
Doctor’s rest, by a mounted messenger. The man 
had floundered through the drifts to whack the 
butt of his whip upon the panel, shout out his 
terrible tidings, and had ridden away again to 
rouse the next household to the rescue. 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


239 


The rescue! It’s hopeless!” said Aunt 
Delight, disconsolately. 

We don’t know that yet ! ” 

Then the physician had tossed aside his slip- 
pers, thrust his feet into his heavy snow-boots 
again, rushed up the stairs and summoned his 
men folk ” with the alertness of youth, and had 
once more gone forth into the night and the 
awful snow. 

Those left behind regarded each other with 
pale, frightened faces. 

Then, as he drew on his woollen mittens, 
Daniel asked : — 

Does anybody know where ? ” 

Miss Sampson knew nothing beyond the simple 
fact already stated. The messenger had come 
and gone, like a vision of the night. He had 
not even asked for aid in the search. But,” 
said the old gentlewoman, proudly, he had no 
need to do that at Sampson House. Never a 
one of our blood failed in a time of danger.” 

‘^Yet, Auntie — you don’t want me to- go! 
Now, do you ? ” 

Yes — and no. No matter. Go, and God 
go with you. Is your lantern filled ? ” 

I think so. I heard uncle telling Molly to 
see to it that every lamp and lantern on the 


240 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

premises was filled to-night. Funny, was n't it ? 
Seems as if he knew — Are you off, already, 
Dan ? ” 

Yes. Hurry ! Every second ’s a chance to 
save him ! ” 

Miss Sampson caught her own lad in her 
arras and dashed a hasty kiss upon his muffled 
lips ; when, moved by his instinct of chivalry, 
he pulled the comforter ” from his mouth 
and returned her caress with a resounding 
smack. 

There, Auntie Delight ! That ’s for luck — 
and good-night. Go back to bed. You look so 

— so funny, and you ’ll get cold. Don’t worry, 
dear. If I ’m out to-night it ’s for a good motive, 
is n’t it ? Now go to bed and sleep. Because 

— I — I — Well, I’m not all bad. Auntie 
Delight ! ” 

He tossed another kiss to her from the tip of 
his fur glove, swung his lantern aloft, to the 
danger of the carpet, and vanished behind the 
outer door. But somehow, thus indirectly, he 
had apologized and she had accepted the apology 
for many a night of sleeplessness which he 
had given her of late. 

The dear, brave laddie ! His faults — Who 
has n’t them ? It ’s only the ^ wild oats ’ that 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


241 


most youths sow. He ’ll come all right yet, 
please God ! Yet — what — what does, what 
can he do — with the money ? ” 

But she did not go to bed again, as she had 
been bidden. She reflected that the searchers 
might return at any time, cold and hungry, and 
needing her care. So she dressed in her ordinary 
garb and betook herself to the great kitchen, 
where she remade the fire in the big stove and 
set the teakettle on “ to boil.” 

From the well-stocked buttery ” she brought 
all sorts of indigestible dainties, and a few 
that were simple and wholesome, — This cold 
meat and bread for the Doctor and Abraham, 
but the lads — why, there ’s nothing a grow- 
ing boy likes as well as plum cake and mince 
pie.” 

Then adding to these a few other trifles 
which her knowledge of men folks ” suggested, 
she sat down beside the fire to wait and knit ; 
and she always afterward averred that she 
had not been asleep, not at all,” when she 
roused to see Daniel standing over her and 
gently touching her shoulder. 

Hmm. You back ? So soon ? Where ’s 
Phil?” 

He 's gone right up to his room. Ma’am.” 

16 


242 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Gone to his room ? Without eating ? Is he 
sick ? ” 

Daniel laughed, and the laugh was reassuring. 

“ No, I think not. Of course he ’s nearly ex- 
hausted. Abraham had to carry him — 

Quick ! Why — ” 

Please wait. Miss Sampson ! He ’s all right, 
he surely is. And he ’s the hero ! He found 
him — the poor Deacon.” 

Tell me the rest up there ! ” 

Daniel laughed again at the frantic speed with 
which Aunt Delight departed ; but he followed 
her to Philip’s room, where Abraham had just 
laid the worn out hero ” upon the bed, and 
while she got her darling into dry clothes 
and warm blankets, narrated the events of the 
night. 

You see, when we heard the whole story, as 
it was, everybody started ’cross-lots from the 
Deacon’s to the Dominie’s. But any tracks the 
poor man had made had all been covered up by 
the drifts. In the first place, a party from t’other 
end the Valley had come along to Tewksbury’s 
an’ turned in there to dig ’em out. They found 
poor Nate Heard in the barn, the door open, an’ 
old Solomon harnessed to the shafts yet. Mis’ 
Tewksbury, she seemed kind of lost in her wits. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 243 

She said they ’d been gone ever since dinner, an’ 
she must ha’ went to sleep up attic. She was 
dretful cold herself, they said ; an’ as for Nate, 
he was out of his senses, stretched flat on the 
sled, an’ the snow had blowed in the barn door 
an’ half buried him. Doctor thinks it helped 
keep him warm. I don’t know ’bout that; 
pears like a snow bedquilt wouldn’t be overly 
hot. Does it ? ” 

There. Are you comfortable, darling ? Sure ? 
Everywhere? Go on with your story, Daniel. 
Wait. Phil, let me put that pillow — ” 

Hang the pillow ! Give me a piece of pie. 
I saw some on the table as Abe carried me past 
the kitchen door.” 

Shall I ? ” asked Dan, eagerly. 

^^Yes. Of course. If he can eat he isn’t 
going to die. Bring up a whole tray full of stuff. 
You must be hungry, too, and tell Susan to 
make the coffee just as quick as she can.” 

The rather peculiar breakfast already provided 
met with such hearty acceptance by the returned 
searchers that Miss Sampson’s fears were wholly 
allayed, as far as her Philip was concerned, and 
she gathered from the hungry lads, between 
mouthfuls, the facts of the case. 

That Nathan had felt a spell ” coming on 


244 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 

him as he entered the barn, but had been power- 
less to rise and exert himself. That a party of 
road-breakers had found him and carried him to 
the house. That as soon as he revived he had 
told them of the Deacon’s probable attempt to 
reach Davidson’s by a cross-field route, and the 
rescuers had concentrated their attention upon 
that line. 

But it was Philip found him. Miss Samp- 
son. Found him after everybody else thought 
it useless to work any more. He knowed — 
he knew — a path ’at nobody else did, an’ I 
can’t see how he could make it out in sech a 
blank-lookin’ heap o’ snow, as that hull Holler 
is ; but he did ; an’ they think, the Doctor does, 
’at the Deacon may pull through. Anyhow, if he 
dies, he ’ll die in a bed an’ not a snowdrift ; an’ 
Mis’ Tewksbury says that ’ll be some comfort to 
her, anyway. An’ they jest about carried Phil 
on their shoulders, all the way back to the road, 
the men did.” 

Where is the Deacon now ? ” 

At the Dominie’s, o’ course. He’d got al- 
most there. I tell you, he must ha’ had grit ! 
Folks say it ’s a wonder how he ever could crawl 
that fur, it ’s so terrible drifty. I ’low you never 
saw anything like it.” 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


245 


I hope I never shall again. Daniel.” 

Yes, Auntie, and is n’t it queer ? There ’s 
the Deacon just acted as if he hated the Dominie, 
and here he is taken there to be sick, nobody 
knows how long, if he doesn’t even die there. 
Uncle says he ’s in a terrible state — but ‘ only 
not dead.’ ” 

“ Hmin. That ’s retribution. .1 presume if 
that poor stiff-necked old man could have his 
will he ’d almost rather die than be indebted to 
Dominie Davidson for his nursing.” 

And another queer thing. After I ’d found 
the Deacon and hallooed to the men and they ’d 
taken him up to go off with, I happened to see 
his hat lying not far away. I picked that up, 
and then, I don’t know why, but I poked around 
in the snow some more with my shovel-handle 
and — ’’ 

Well, what?” asked Miss Sampson, in eager 
interest, for Philip had paused in his narrative 
and seemed to be deeply thinking. 

Oh ! nothing. Only I found his wallet. 
That, and his spectacles lying together as they 
had fallen out of his pocket, probably.” 

What a fortunate thing ! Was there much 
money in it ? What did you do with it ? ” 

‘‘ Yes. It was full and hard. I did n’t open 


246 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

it, but I ’m sure there was a lot. I ’d like as 
much myself. Hi ! would n't I ? " 

“ Philip, what did you do with it — the 
wallet ? " 

There was something in the tone that made 
the lad turn his face and gaze piercingly into his 
aunt’s eyes, while a flush rose steadily in his 
cheek. 

But he answered, carelessly : — 

I don’t remember, exactly. Though I think 
I gave it to Dan, and he gave it to Renew. 
Yes. That was it. Renew had it the last.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


JAKE LANE VISITS THE SCHOOL. 


T< 


Yo-ho-ah ! ” 

Jake Lane's stage-horn ! Every boy and 
girl in the schoolroom recognized it and won- 
dered at its sound just then and there. Every 
head was lifted and every lesson forgotten, for 
close upon the piercing salute of the horn followed 
the loud jingle-jangle-jingle of the wonderful 
silver bells, than which, their owner boasted, — 
There never was four finer strings in the 
hull United States." 

Whooa-a — up ! Hello, there ! " 

Dominie Davidson started toward the door, 
but a half-dozen lads were before him and he 
did not reprove them for the rudeness. He kept 
on his own way thither, however, and was just 
in time to receive a hearty hand-shake from the 
bluff driver, who was issuing commands to the 
lads, laughing, stamping the snow from his 
great feet, and dispensing an atmosphere of 
gayety about him all at one instant. 


248 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Come in, Jacob, come right in. It’s right 
cold outside, but the old schoolhouse is always 
cosey, you know.” 

Cosey ? I should say so ! It ’s the spot for 
me. Dominie, the very spot for me. Same ’s ’t is 
for you ? Where the youngsters are, there 
you ’ll find us every time. Eh, old Master ? ” 

Yes, yes, Jacob. I declare, I ’m right down 
glad to see you. Yes, children, yes, of course. 
We always take a recess when Mr. Lane pays us 
a visit. Yes, surely.” 

The driver clapped his re^ hands, mischievously 
tossed his snowy mittens toward a rosy little chap 
on the front seat, who blushed to be thus honored 
by the visitor’s notice, and wheeled round several 
times upon his heels, taking an inventory of 
the younkits.” 

Hmm. Good enough. All here, I reckon ; 
or' ’most all. Enough anyhow to spread the 
news. Yes, Dominie. Don’t worry. The boys ’ll 
blanket them horses jest as good as you — I 
mean, jest as good as I could an’ a sight better 
’an you would. Hey ? you know ’bout as much 
o’ horse flesh as I do o’ triggernomertry. That’s 
it, ain’t it ? — that all-fired hard kind o’ ’rithmetic, 
’at you ’re tryin’ to hammer into Phil Sampson’s 
yaller head ? Hmm. ’Bout as much sense to it 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


249 


as — But nevermind. Here ’s the boys, a’ ready. 
Got 'em blanketed, have you ? Tight an’ warm ? 
Good enough. Now file back into your places — 
short metre. I’m the Dominie for a few minutes, 
ain’t I, Master ? ” 

The dear old pedagogue nodded, laughed, and 
already looked years younger than he had before 
this interruption. Then he remembered some- 
thing and asked : — 

Lads, did you tie them ? so they cannot run 
away ?” 

Sure. I can see that right through the win- 
dow,” replied the owner of the animals, content- 
edly. “ I ain’t never goin’ to let ’em run away 
with no more the little shavers, you bet ! Now 
— did n’t you say it was recess, Dominie ? ” 

Yes. Of course, it always is when you come.” 

Ain’t anxious to have me examine the chil- 
dern in, well, let ’s say ’Rithmetic ? ” ^ 

A laugh ran round the room, and was echoed 
quietly by the gentle master. 

Mr. Lane stepped to the teacher’s desk and 
took up one of the books lying there, adjusted a 
mighty pair of snow-goggles over his short nose, 
threw his head back in inimitable mimicry of 
Deacon Tewksbury, and began : — 

^^Hmm. Matilda Brown, if I hire two men 


250 THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

an’ a boy to lay three hunderd an’ fifty-seven rod 
o’ stun wall — Hey? What you all laughin’ at? 
Ain’t I the ‘ Trustee ’ an’ the friend o’ ‘ eddica- 
tion/ now t’other one is laid up — ” 

Jacob ! Mr. Lane ! Really, I cannot allow — ” 
All right, Master. I stand corrected. Should n’t 
hit a feller when he ’s down, an’ that ’s where the 
poor Deacon is now. No. That is kind o’ mean. 
Well, ain’t any of you young ladies goin’ to ask 
me to take off my ‘ things ’ ? This great-coat o’ 
mine — ” 

The loud laughter which had followed the 
visitor’s facetious “ examination ” subsided, and 
Helen with Kate Wilkins ran swiftly forward 
and tried to remove the foxskin garment which 
made the rotund stageman appear so like a huge 
animal. 

There, now I’m peeled, I can talk. Hmm. 
That’s good. A feller ’at spends most of his 
time in the fresh air don’t like warm rooms 
overly much. Well, Dominie, why don’t you ask 
the news, — what I ’m here for, et cetery ? ” 

It is n’t necessary. You ’ll tell.” 

Hmm. Sharp on me yet, ain’t ye ? Same ’s 
when I was knee high to a hop-toad, like this here 
Bob-o-link, Robert Winchester Miller, Esquire.” 

Again the laughter was uproarious. There 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


251 


was nothing witty about Jacob Lane, but his 
overflowing cheerfulness, his great love for his 
kind — especially for everything juvenile, ^^man 
or beast’’ — won the instant liking of all simple- 
hearted people, like this good master and his 
flock. 

Besides, the merry twinkle of his eyes, the 
funny arch of his brows, and his round fat cheeks, 
all predisposed the observer to mirth before even 
a word had issued from the wide, good-natured 
mouth. 

When the fresh outburst of merriment had sub- 
sided, Jacob took a copper cent out of his pocket, 
held it up to view, and remarked : — 

I ’ll give this ^ Continental ’ to the first girl 
or boy guesses what I come here for to-day. Up 
with your hands, now, an’ no scrougin’. Remem- 
ber I’m the teacher, tem,, an’ you’ve all got 
to mind me ! ” 

Up flew a dozen hands, and at a nod from the 
guest Matilda Brown replied : — 

You want a little fun yourself, Mr. Lane. 
That ’s why you come.” 

Oh ? Say, Dominie, that girl ’s granimar ’s 
’bout as bad as mine, ain’t it ? ” 

Matilda is improving. Yes, Matilda is cer- 
tainly improving,” was the comforting response. 


252 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Guess it don’t matter much to her whuther 
she is or not, so long ’s she ’s got a new frock on, 
’at all the other girls wish was theirn. Well, 
she ’s right an’ she ’s wrong, too. Out with it, 
Jimmy Bolton, afore you snap your fingers ofi ! ” 
Reckon you come to give us a sleigh-ride.” 
sleigh-ride! Sleigh-ride? Haven’t you 
all had sleighing enough this winter? With the 
hull Valley blockaded like it had been erupted 
with a Vesuvius, or some other volcano ? When 
folks travel over all the walls an’ fences, ’stead o’ 
’long the ’pike, where they ’d ought to ? Humph ! 
When I have to give up half my trips an’ only go 
once where I used to go four times ? That ’s half, 
ain’t it. Lute Beans ? ” 

No. It ’s a quarter.” 

So ? Well, Luther, you’re gettin’ on, since 
last time I examined you. Right you are. Just 
once where I used to go four times, an’ I tell you 
that makes the days hang mighty heavy on a 
poor old bach like me, hain’t nuther chick nor 
child to worry himself over. Now I ’ll quote you 
some poetry an’ give you a riddle to guess at the 
same time. Listen, the lot of you. ^ Of all the 
days are in the week, I dearly love but one day, 
and that ’s the day that comes between,’ a Friday 
night and Sunday ! Why ? ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 


253 


’Cause it ’s Sat’ day ! ” cried Rob Miller, 
eagerly. 

Right again. My, Dominie ! What a lot of 
bright scholars you do have ! Yes, a Saturday. 
And, to-morrow bein’ Saturday, I ’ve come to in- 
vite you all — Master an’ his hull kit — to take 
a sleigh-ride in my bran-new-painted four-seated 
sleigh. White as the snow it ’ll slide over, an’ 
drawn by them four grays o’ mine. Harness all 
tosselled up to the Queen’s taste, red ribbin on 
my whip, heaps o’ clean straw in the bottom, 
younkits packed closer ’n herrin’ in a box, jingle- 
bells — ride till you can’t ride no longer. Then 
what?” . 

Home, I suppose,” said Helen, who had kept 
lier place by her teacher’s desk, and stood idly 
stroking his thin old hand as it lay upon the slop- 
ing top. The action, so unconscious on her part, 
was exceeding pleasant to its recipient, and not 
unnoticed by Jacob ; who, in common with all 
the Valley,” loved the Doctor’s gentle daughter, 
and felt the better every time he came in contact 
with her simple naturalness. 

It was for her, had she known it, more than for 
any other there, that he had planned the little 
treat he meant to give them all, and his face 
lighted afresh with anticipation of the surprise in 
store. 


254 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Well, Mistress Nell, once you ’ve failed ! No. 
And I ’ll not tease you any longer. I ’ve asked 
permission of all your folks beforehand, an’ to- 
morrow afternoon, at one o’clock sharp, I’m to 
start from my house, t’other end the Valley, 
an’ begin loadin’ up that beautiful white sleigh 
with the childern that live nearest. I ’ll go the 
hull rounds, an’ I won’t leave out a single girl 
nor boy, ’less he goes an’ gets the croup or sunthin’ 
between now an’ then, an’ I ’ll take you down as 
fur as Polinquet meetin’ -house. Then home again, 
but not to any home ’cept mine. 1 ’ve got old 
Mother Biddle to come an’ help a bit, an’ I lay 
out to have the biggest candy-pull to-morrow 
afternoon ’at ever was in our old Valley. An’ 
after the pullin’, the eatin’. An’ the one eats the 
most candy can have the most cold turkey an’ 
mince pie an’ plum cake an’ apple jell — an’ I 
ain’t got breath for no more. Now how many 
of you wants to come ? All in favor, say ‘ Aye ! ’” 

They were instantly uproarious again. The 
master raised his hand warningly, but quite in 
vain. Even Helen, who mostly aided his efforts 
when she could, now caught his uplifted palm 
and drew it down between her own, lest he should 
stop the fun. 

But at the end of five minutes Jacob himself 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


255 


thought there had been enough, and begged the 
Dominie’s permission to speak a word with him 
in private. The driver’s face, asking this favor, 
was serious enough to have satisfied even 
the Board,” and the request was granted 
most promptly. The room was cleared of all 
its young inmates, and the two men were left 
alone. 

Well, Jacob — Mr. Lane — what is it ? ” 

Jacob ’s best. Same as it always has been 
since I was little ’s one o’ these shavers here to- 
day. My ! it don’t seem a minute ago ’at you 
licked me, right there on that same old board full 
o’ knots, for whalin’ Sim Beddecker in G’og’aphy 
class. I’ve liked you, an hated him, an’ he ’s 
needed whalin’ continual, from that day forth till 
now. Dern him ! ” 

Jacob ! Ja-cob ! Stop ! ” 

All right. Here ’s my hand. Ruler it if you 
like. I desarve it, same’s ever, but not for de- 
spisin’ him no more now than then. He ’s a sarpint 
born, an’ a sarpint he will die.” 

^‘DonT be prejudiced, man. Prejudice warps 
character sadly from the upright.” 

That’s right ! Whack it into me, old feller ! 
I need it. Beg pardon. I don’t want to be sassy, 
even if I have growed up. But look a here. 


256 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Dominie Davidson, there’s trouble a brewin' for 
somebody ! ” 

For me, do' you mean?” 

^^For the hull Valley. I’ve got wind on ’t. 
That ’s the why, the real why, I ’m givin’ this 
candy party this especial particelar SaturdajL 
The fight s narrowin’ down to betwixt Deacon 
Tewksbury an Sim Beddecker on one side, an’ me 
an’ a good many decent folks on t’other. Only, 
this stuff about the money caps the climax. 
Well, I ’ll get to the bottom o’ that to-morrow if 
I can. An’ maybe, so ’s to give me a better 
chance, maybe, if you don’t overly care, you’d 
better not make it convenient to come to the 
party. Eh ? Ain’t that a mean thing to do, — 
ask a man to visit you an’ then tell him he ’d 
better stay to home ? What you think ? ” 

A look of weariness and despondency flitted 
across the teacher’s thin face. But he responded 
promptly and honestly enough to satisfy his 
friend that the weariness came from another 
cause than the latter’s apparent inhospitality. 

I think you are right. It would be far the 
best way to leave you alone with the children. 
They ’ll tell you all they know, surely, if they 
will anybody. The darkest feature of the whole 
affair is its secrecy.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 257 

^‘Well, you keep a stiff upper lip, Dominie. 
An’ remember, old man, whenever you feel the 
need o’ good advice an’ a strong arm to brace 
yourself up on, all you ’ve got do is to holler 
for Jake Lane, an’ he dl rally to the rescue every 
time. Lord bless you. Master ! You an’ them 
younkits is all that keeps me from losin’ faith in 
folks entire.” 

Thank you, Jacob.” 

Oh ! by the way. A revivalist’s cornin’ along 
next week, I hear, an’ that was another reason 
made me get my party in ahead, ’fore Parson 
Bolton up an’ calls it sinful, as he does nigh 
everything jolly. Don’t wonder his Jim ’s in 
with that gang.” 

Friend, he is a most godly man.” 

He may be. All I know is he ain’t a pleas- 
ant one. Your religion makes you charitable to 
folkses’ failin’s, even to your enemies’, but he 
takes his’n hard. Gives him a spiritual dyspepsy, 
I ’low. He always looks ’s if he ’d been eatin’ 
dried sour apples without havin’ ’em soaked 
first. 

Hello! Hel-l-l-l-o! BY— THE — GREAT — 
HORN — SPOON!” 

The jovial face of the stageman underwent 
such a sudden and startling transformation that 
17 


258 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

the Dominie sprang to his feet in alarm. But he 
could not see through the window, which Jacob’s 
burly form obscured. 

What is it ? Quick ? What ’s happened ? ” 
The thought of harm befalling some member 
of his flock was instant and grievous ; and, as 
the other did not immediately answer, the master 
started swiftly toward the door. 

Beyond this the noisy shouts of children at 
play had given place to a strange silence, and 
this, in turn, lasted but a brief while. Then fol- 
lowed a mad rush of girls and boys, screaming 
and tumbling over each other in their frantic 
eagerness to reach the shelter of the schoolroom 
and their master’s presence. 

He met them on the threshold and instinctively 
opened his arms as if he would enfold them all 
within one yearning embrace. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


PEDAGOGUE PRO TEM. 


HEREUPON, there rang out the stage- 



driver s mighty laughter, and the chil- 


dren’s startled faces turned outward again, and 
averted eyes sought timorously the explanation 
of the mystery which had driven them to bay. 

Well, of all the critters ever I see ! ” 

It was a curious sight. 

A creature of various hues ; striped and 
blotched with vermilion and blue, yellow and 
white ; its form suggesting a horse, its great green 
ears flapping like a mule’s, and its solemn eyes 
looking out from encircling rings of white and 
black, gruesome and awful. 

It stood squarely in the path leading to the 
door and regarded the ancient building with its 
fearsome gaze, as if meditating immediate on- 
slaught and utter annihilation. 


What in the name — of common-sense — is 

I 

Is it a — a — What is it ? ” 

Some kind of a horse ? ” 


260 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

A zebra ? ” 

I did n’t know they was — blue ! ” 

An’ red — an’ — Oh ! my ! ” 

It’s some wild — It moves ! ” 

‘^Is it — the — the — Devil?” asked little Rob^ 
burying his face in Helen’s skirts and shrieking 
out his terror there. 

Hush, Robbie, dear ! It ’s not that. It can’t 
be. Hush ! It is coming — it is coming 1 ” 
Catching up the child and hugging him to her 
breast the girl leaped to the blackboard, rolled it 
aside, and burst into the little lean-to behind. 

There was an odor of fresh paint there ; an 
odor which had been strongly perceptible all day 
by the children in the adjoining room, but from 
their interest in nearer matters had not been 
much commented upon. Now, to Helen, it re- 
vealed something of the truth. 

Paint ! It ’s an animal of some sort, painted! 
Do you hear me, Robbie, darling ? Just a painted 
thing of some sort.” 

^AVill it bite? Will it eat poor Robert all 
up ? ” 

It sha’n’t do that, and I don’t believe it will 
bite. It can’t you see, little one, if we stay safe in 
here. Master will take care of us. He always 
does.” 


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THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 261 

Master always does/’ assented the child, 
growing more confident. 

Of course he does. Hark ! I want to hear 
what they are saying. I want — Why, there’s 
somebody else in here ! ” 

Hush, Nell, yourself ! Don’t spoil the fun.” 

The tittering which had startled her ended in 
a rush forward and the clapping of boyish hands 
over her mouth. 

Why, Phil ! ” 

Hush, I tell you ! Hush, Nell, please, please ! 
It is such a lark — such fun, such fun ! Why, I ’m 
almost dead with trying to keep in the laugh. 
And I ’ve had to fight Dan every other minute 
for fear he ’d give me away before I was ready. 
Come out of the brush-pile, Dan, it ’s only Nell.” 

The speaker had shut the door, which the girl 
had opened, after having carefully replaced the 
tell-tale blackboard ; and the four were now im- 
prisoned in total darkness, though perfectly able to 
hear all that transpired in the schoolroom itself. 

But Helen heard nothing save that dear, fami- 
iar Nell ” which her cousin’s lips had uttered 
in his excitement, and now for the first time 
since that memorable morning so long ago, when 
the great snowfall began. 

Oh ! Phil, darling ! Then you ’ve forgiven 


262 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


me! You know I didn’t tell Auntie about the 
wretched money ! ” 

She had forgotten all about the strange occur- 
rence of the past few minutes, her loving heart 
being conscious only of the happy fact that ^Thil 
is friends again.” 

Hush, girlie ! Yes, of course. Yes, I ’ve for- 
given. I ’d forgotten. Did n’t I tell you so ? 
Well, never mind. Maybe I was mad — but 
hark 1 can’t you ? ” 

Instantly she became silent, and even stilled 
little Robert’s timid questions, lest they should 
jar upon this unexpected, benignant mood of 
Philip, her idol, — Philip, with whom she longed 
to stand shoulder to shoulder again, as in the 
happy old days of their comradery, before he had 
begun to do strange things: before he had ever 
run away at night; or had secret uses for the 
liberal pocket money which his father’s authority 
made absolutely his own to control ; or had ac- 
quired that irritable, impatient manner toward 
anybody who reproved him ; or had learned to 
treat her as if she were a nobody, a mere girl,” 
too insignificant to speak with ; and, oh 1 as he 
was before that unhappy morning when he had 
accused her — a Sampson — of a lie ! 

She dropped her arms from his neck and 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 263 

• 

listened obediently, as he bade her ; and it was 
Daniel who presently put little Rob aside and 
whispered the explanation to her, though so low 
that the child at her knee could not hear : — 

“ It ’s only Parson’s horse, the old white one 
that he lets run the country all the time. Phil 
was mad about that sermon last Sunday, when 
he hinted — the Parson did — that all the trouble 
in the Valley came from the bad boys of this 
school, and that I was the ringleader. I did n’t 
mind that myself, but I was mad, too, when he 
spoke o’ Phil that way : ^ The rich man’s son 
that had come into the Valley an’ brought a trail 
o’ evil with him, a contaminatin’ all the innocent 
youths o’ the neighborhood, an’ so on. That did 
make my blood bile, I tell you ! So, when Phil 
said that charity ought to begin to home, an’ I 
could n’t stand seeing a poor old horse turned out 
in the winter time to pick up a livin’ as it 
could — ” 

Why, everybody feeds the poor creature, you 
know, Dan ! Half the time he ’s in our own stable, 
and when he is n’t there somebody else takes him 
in and cares for him. I don’t think he ’s suffered 
any — till now. That paint — ” 

Hmm. ’ T ain’t the minister’s fault if he 
hain’t — hasn’t, I mean. When I get excited 


264 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 

I forget to talk proper like I ’m tryin’, you 
see.” 

“ Oh ! the talk is all right. But that poor 
old horse, Dan ! Yes, Rob, you shall go. Please, 
Phil, dear, open that outside shutter and let the 
little fellow free.” 

Let us all free. We might as well go ’round 
now and see the fun close-hand. Come on, Bob- 
o-link ! ” 

The shutter flew open, small Robert flew after 
it, deposited in a snow bank by a well aimed toss 
of Philip’s dexterous arm. Then, before she 
realized what he was doing, he caught Helen’s 
slight figure also, and made as if he would send 
her following Robert’s flight. However, he only 
thrust her through the window, and set her very 
gently upon the crust, which was almost even 
with the casement. 

In the transit, though, he had managed to 
place on the tip of her nose a shamefaced little 
kiss, which was his boyish ratification of the 

making-up ” that so delighted her soul. 

Dan joined them, and it was he who rescued 
Robert from the drift, brushed the snow off the 
fat little legs, and setting the child upon his own 
strong shoulder followed the laughing cousins to 
the front of the building. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 2p5 

^^Dan always does go behind to pick up the 
fragments, does n’t he, Phil, darling ? I reckon 
it ’ll be he who will have to clean that dreadful 
paint off that poor beast ! ” exclaimed Helen 
dancing along in the path beside her cousin, too 
happy now to walk and keep up the scare 
awhile longer,” as he continually bade her. 

In any case it would n’t have much availed 
had she been as sedate as the decorated horse 
itself ; for Jacob Lane had found out the real 
truth of the matter, before this, and between his 
outbursts of laughter was catechising the scholars 
as to who had done this outrageous thing. 

It ’s a painted horse. It ’s the Parson’s 
horse. That I can see for myself, an’ the paint ’s 
consid’able fresh. Now, what I want to know is : 
Who done it ? ” 

‘a did n’t!” 

Nor me 1 ” 

Nor me, nor him, nor her ! ” 

There was no more school that day. Jacob 
furnished a halter and tied the striped mon- 
strosity safely under the warm shed ; then he 
re-entered the schoolhouse and aided the Dominie 
in an “ investigation ” as to the guilty perpetra- 
tor of the deed. 

It ’s fun now, younkits. I can’t no more 


266 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOITSE. 

help laughin’ at the miserable critter in his 
convict’s suit o’ clothes ’an I can help breathin’. 
An’ that ’s the gospel truth. But there ’s another 
truth, too. This here thing ’s a-goin’ to start a 
heap o’ mischief. I don’t like to make ^ a moun- 
tain out of a mole-hill,’ but — jest now, in the 
present state o’ feelin’ in the Valley, a straw ’ll 
turn the popular opinion. What in — Jerusalem 
artichokes ’ll any on us do, if this here skylark 
should oust the dear old Dominie from the little 
red schoolhouse ? ” 

The awe-stricken hush which fell upon the 
crowding children was proof beyond words of 
the love they bore this possible victim : and 
when, touched by this silent tribute, the tender- 
hearted old master dropped his head upon his 
hands and hid his face from them, tears leaped 
to the eyes of many, and Helen ran forward to 
clasp her arms about him. 

They can’t ! They dare not be so mean ! 
Just for a bit of nonsense like that!” 

Never had the girl seemed fairer nor more a 
leader than as she stood thus, ready to do battle, 
defying that cruel popular opinion,” for her life- 
long friend. It was the same spirit of loyalty 
animating her then that had made her rally to 
the support of the pedagogue on that day of 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 267 

Deacon Tewksbury’s trying visit ; and that had, 
during all the past weeks toiled faithfully with 
them all to accomplish that impossible ” quilt 
which the trustee had suggested as a test of the 
old man’s ability to instruct. The quilt was 
well-nigh completed now, and even those who 
had once pronounced it a hopeless undertaking 
began to see in it a proof not only of thorough 
instruction, but of this scholarly loyalty that was 
sure to win. 

Back in the further corner, Philip watched his 
cousin breathlessly. Would she betray him ? 
For, somehow, a sudden reluctance to confess his 
part in the transaction had come upon him. 
Escapades and insinuations, to her as yet un- 
known, had already reached his guardians’ ears, 
and there had been stormy scenes at Sampson 
House, which threatened to result in his banish- 
ment thence and his imprisonment in a school that 
he regarded as little better than a ‘^Reformatory.” 

“ I never thought how it might work against 
the poor old Dominie. They ’d say he could n’t 
keep order, and all that bosh. But will she 
tell ? Dan won’t. That I know. He ’d die 
first.” 

Something suggested itself to Jacob Lane, and 
he turned his glance upon Helen. 


268 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Child, do you know who did that thing?’’ 

The girl caught her breath. Then she answered 
steadily : — 

^^Yes.” 

Philip’s brow grew dark, and he clinched his 
hands, listening. 

‘^Who was it ? ” 

There was no reply. The silence grew and 
intensified. At first, to the children, it had seemed 
to mean but a trifle ; now it held them spell- 
bound, their young sympathies touched by the 
tension of feeling suddenly developed around 
them. 

It lies, I guess, between shieldin’ some school- 
mate an’ shieldin’ this faithful old feller. Now, 
how ’ll you choose ? ” 

Helen cast her gaze upon the floor, pressed the 
Dominie’s hand still tighter, but answered nothing. 

You ’d ruther let ’em turn him out o’ office, 
as an imbecile old worn-out man than jest to 
mention the culprit’s name?” 

In his own mind, Jacob Lane believed he knew 
the guilty person, and that he was there present. 
Yet he did not intimate this in any degree, and 
for the last time he asked the trembling girl : — 

Won’t you jest speak, little Nell, an’ save 
the Dominie ? ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 269 

He shall be saved ! But — I 'll never tell.” 

Then I call it this school 's dismissed. Jim 
Bolton, go out and take your father's old nag 
home ; an' tell him, for me — for me, hear — 
that the next time I catch him wanderin’ the 
country round, in the dead o’ winter, I 'll jest 
put a bullet through its miserable old carcass, 
and end its misery. An’, bein’ 's Dominie 's 
upset — I’ll close this arfternoon without a 
prayer.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE CONVERSION OF SIMEON BEDDECKER. 
HE revival was in full progress. 



i Never, in all the history of that Valley, 
had there been such a universal waking up of 
human souls as this. 

All other interests gave place to it. The promi- 
nent question upon the lips of men and women 
was : Whose heart has been touched to-day ? ” 

The little red schoolhouse, conveniently cen- 
tral, became the glowing point of spiritual fusion. 
After the first few days of the excitement the 
school sessions were abandoned for the religious 
services which were held in their stead, morning, 
afternoon, and evening. 

The wild March weather suited the wilder fer- 
vor of the itinerant evangelist who had come 
into the Valley to lead the movement. The little 
children felt the wrath of God in the winds which 
lashed the sodden snows, and His approval in the 
brilliant sunshine that melted them. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


271 


Grandsires and grandsons came hand in hand 
to the mourners’ bench,” or placed themselves 
side by side upon the anxious seat,” that they 
might receive the especial, personal ministrations 
of the preacher. 

Jacob Lane was among the earliest to become 
converted. Oddly enough, from having always 
been the j oiliest, most easy-going of men, he now 
became fiercely belligerent and aggressive. 

Why, I tell you, neighbors, such a chance as 
this ’n don’t come into a feller’s life more ’n once. 
It’ll never come into our Valley ag’in, never, so 
long as we all live. So you ’ve got to embrace 
this golden opportunity now, or lose it forever. 
You must come. You must ! I can’t be happy 
’less you do ! Come one, come all ! Now, don’t 
hold back another minute ! Walk right forard 
with me ! I ’ll stan’ by ye, an’ help ye give old 
Satan a whack ’at ’ll settle his hash forever, so 
fur forth as you’re concerned.” 

Hitherto his fellow-citizens had known him as 
a cheerful, warm-hearted fellow, whose love for 
little children, and their confidence in him, bespoke 
him a good man if not a wise one. The worst 
any Valleyite had ever thought concerning him 
was that he might occasionally get the better of 
a customer in a horse trade.” However, who 


272 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

ever really laid a thing of that nature up against 
a professional dealer ” ? 

Now, by his own showing, there were no depths 
of wickedness into which this simple soul had not 
been delving ; and hearing him thus berate him- 
self, the “ younkits,” over whom he yearned more 
than ever, grew frightened and withdrew as far 
as possible from his presence. 

He saw this and grieved over it ; but none the 
less he waged his bitter war against sin, his own 
and — his neighbors’. 

Most especially Sim Beddecker’s. 

On his way to the schoolhouse one day, he met 
his rival, Simeon, in the narrow, only passage 
that the yet remaining deep snow left available. 
Mr. Lane reined in the two grays he was driving, 
just as their noses touched the black and white 
noses of the other’s advancing team. 

Yelled Jacob : — 

Hello, you old reprobate ! How happens it 
that you ’re travellin’ in the wrong direction ? 
Why ain’t you on the road to meetin’ ? ” 

Oh ! come, Jake, you mind your own business. 
’Pears as if you ’d clean lost your senses, a-gettin’ 
so excited over things. Turn out, can’t ye, an’ 
let a feller by.” 

Turn out ? No. I can’t. What ’s more, I 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 273 

sha’n’t. I ’m jest where I ’m ordained to be, or I 
shouldn’t be here. Yes, yes. To speak the 
warnin’ word to you, iny sinful friend, an’ lead 
you back into the way o’ holiness.” 

Plague take you ! Turn out, I say ! Wish 
to goodness this snow ’d melt an’ drown you in it, 
rampagin’ around as you be, a-neglectin’ your 
regular business an’ carryin’ on like a crazy 
critter.” 

Crazy, be I ? Yes. Yes. Jest plumb crazy 
with the wonder an’ glory on it all. I, a sinner, 
worse ’n a heathen — ” 

I agree with ye entire ! ” interrupted Mr. 
Beddecker. 

But saved at last ! An’ now I ’m bound to 
snatch you, too, you old enemy, as a brand from 
the burnin’. Yes, Sim Beddecker, bound an’ 
determined ; an’ what Jake Lane sets out to 
’complish he gen’ally does. Come. Head them 
horses o’ your’n round, square in their tracks. I 
’low there ’s room enough, an’ if they hain’t I ’ll 
take a holt an’ flop that sleigh into the right 
direction quicker ’n ^ Jack Robinson.’ Come. 
Round with ye ! ” 

But — I ain’t goin’ round. Understan’ that ? 
I ’m on *the road to Carthage, a-mindin’ my own 
business, as a decent citizen should, ’stead o’ 
18 


274 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


blockadin’ the turnpike, like you ’re a-doin’. 
Move out an’ let me along.” 

By this time other vehicles, also bound meet- 
ing-ward, had come up and fallen into line 
behind Jacob’s, their occupants now waiting im- 
patiently for the end of this controversy. To 
turn out and attempt to pass around the wordy 
combatants was to be upset, for the snow-banks 
were still almost shoulder high on either side 
the passage, which just there was narrower than 
common. 

One, seeing no probable termination of the 
dispute, exhorted the stagemen : — 

“ Hold on an’ shet up for a spell, you simple- 
tons ! Most on us behind you have been driv- 
in’ fast to get to meetin’ on time, an’ our horses 
can’t stall’ here unblanketed in this wind. Make 
way there, one o’ ye, an’ let us pass.” 

Jacob had risen to his feet and stood upright 
in his sleigh, the better to address his opponent ; 
but he now wheeled fiercely about to face back- 
ward, exclaiming : — 

• An’ what ’s horseflesh compared to a human 
soul? His soul ! Sim Beddecker’s, who‘s done 
more evil an’ carried more young lads to per- 
dition an’ ary man ’at ever set foot in the 
Valley. Horseflesh — an’ Sim Beddecker ! Why, 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 275 

I would n’t name them innercent critters in the 
same day along ’ith him ; no, not as he is now. 
Oh ! I tell you, neighbors, if ever a poor con- 
temptible sinner needed to be brought to the 
knowledge o’ his own vileness an’ to the savin’ 
power o’ religion, if ever a scalliwag needed 
convertin’, Sim ’s the feller. An’ I ’ll fetch him 
where he ’d ought to go, an’ I ’ll not move foot 
nor step from this spot till I do.” 

A laugh that ended in a groan arose from the 
people whose course was thus obstructed. 

Then we might all as well turn about home 
again,” cried the foremost. 

^^No, you needn’t. No, you needn’t. I’m 
tryiiT persuasion fust. I’m preachin’ the gos- 
pel o’ peace an’ free salvation on the start, an’ if 
that don’t fetch him I Ve got a lever what will. 
There ’s more ways ’an one to budge a balky 
mule.” 

You ain’t balky yourself, be ye, Jake ? ” 
asked Simeon, facetiously. 

Yes, I be. Yes. I ’m balkier ’n the balkiest 
quadruped ’at ever was harnessed to your stage 
or mine. I don’t know no way to give up. I 
can’t give up. More ’n that, I declare to you 
an’ all these folks now collected ’at when I leave 
this dug-out road ’twixt these two snow-banks. 


276 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

I ’ll leave it with you in tow, a-headed straight 
for the schoolhouse an’ the ‘ anxious seat ’ ’at ’s 
there awaitin’ ye. Awaitin’ for you, Sim Bed- 
decker. Now, be ye ready to start yet ? 

Simeon lost patience wholly. In honest Jacob, 
once his rival and straightforward enemy, he 
now beheld a fanatic gone mad with zeal, who 
must he treated like any other madman. 

“ Well, for my part, I ’m tired o’ this. I ’ve 
got affairs to ’tend to, if you hain’t. An’ I flatter 
myself ’at I can keep clear o’ this spiritual frenzy 
what makes sensible men turn silly.” 

With this, and an air of lofty superiority, the 
unregenerate Mr. Beddecker descended from his 
sleigh and walked to the heads of the horses, 
turning his own team to the right and gently 
forcing Jacob’s in the opposite direction. 

Though wider elsewhere, in this particular 
drift-filled spot, as has been said, the shovelled 
road was so narrow that only by the nicest cal- 
culation could even smaller vehicles pass each 
other, while the ice crust on the snow had be- 
come too softened by wind and sunshine to 
make a ’cross-lots ” trip any longer possible. 

Simeon must either back his horses over a 
long retreat to reach a better turn-out,” or meet- 
ing a generous response of half road ” from 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 277 

his opponent, guide his big stage carefully past 
these other obstructing sleighs. 

But there was no “ half-road ’’ generosity in 
Jacob’s spirit. As Simeon’s hands touched the 
handsome heads of his beloved grays, he leaped 
into the road and yanked them forcibly back 
into the middle of it. 

His earnest, flushed face looked out between 
his fur cap and the great collar of his fox-skin 
coat with indomitable determination in every 
line. 

‘‘ Come, Jacob, don’t act the fool any longer ! 
Look at all that funeral-procession-like string o’ 
sleds an’ pungs behind ye, cram full o’ folks a 
dislocatin’ their necks to see me an’ you do the 
Kilkenny cat business. Come. I don’t owe ye 
no gredge. Here ’s my hand on ’t, I don’t. 
Shake an’ turn out, an’ that ’ll be more piouser, 
I ’low, ’an all this bull-doggedness o’ your’n.” 

I ’ll shake an’ gladly, Sim, old boy. But not 
— till you agree to go to meetin’ with me. Say 
the word an’ make a happy man o’ yourself an’ 
me, too. Will ye go ? ” 

^^No, Jake. Not now. I can’t. Why, I’ve 
got to make some trips over the line, hain’t I ? 
The more especial as you hain’t, not once sence 
this protracted meetin’ begun. Sure, the hull 


278 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Valley can t go without the mails an’ the pervi- 
sion it ’s ’customed to depend on us a-bringin’ in, 
can it ? ” 

Meat that perisheth, Simeon. The meat 
that ’ll turn to soul-pisen in your mouth if you 
value it afore salvation.” 

Well, I don’t o’ course. But there ! I jest 
come from Sampson House, an’ there ’s Mis’ 
Adair been needin’ her dainties from town this 
week or more, an’ not gettin’ ’em ’cause you, ’at 
gen’ally does her arrants, is neglectin’ ’em 
complete.” 

There was a momentary change in the expres- 
sion of Jacob’s face. That the invalid lady whom 
all the Valley honored might need aught with 
which he was accustomed to supply her had not 
before occurred to him. 

But he banished the fleeting regret as a sug- 
gestion of the devil, while Simeon made haste to 
follow up the advantage he had gained. He had 
his own personal reasons for avoiding an open 
rupture with the other. 

Yes, an’ there ’s Miss Delight had to go into 
the kitchen an’ cook, ’count o’ old Susan an’ 
Molly a trapesin’ to meetin’ continual. Old nig- 
ger was jest goin’ out the door as I druv up, an’ 
Miss Sampson was a-coaxin’ her to come back 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 279 

an* finish up the ironin’ an’ leave ineetin’ go for 
one day. But no, sir ! Says Susan : — 

^ Laws, honey ! cayn’t ’spect po’ ole cullud 
woman to stop an’ iron body-clo’es, can ye, when 
her po’ soul ’s so full o’ sin-wrinkles she cayn’t 
be comf’able day nor night, till the flat-iron o’ 
salvation ’s a-squeeged on ’em all out. Plenty 
time to cook an’ iron, Missy, when I done get my 
soul saved. Shuah ! ’ 

An’ that old fatty wobbled ofi, shoutin’ 
‘ Glory ! ’ an’ leavin’ Miss Sampson starin’ after 
her, clean beat out an’ disgusted.” 

Humph ! ” ejaculated Jake, half-laughing. 

Yes. It ’s jest as I ’m a-tellin’ ye. ^ Well, 
Mr. Beddecker,’ says Miss Delight, says she, 
^ my religion teaches me to do the duty ’at lies 
nearest,’ an’ I agree with her. An’ the nearest 
duty I, Sim Beddecker, ’s got is to get plumb 
straight to Carthage, soon ’s I can, an’ fetch back 
them medicines an’ oranges an’ things ’at ’s 
wanted to Sampson House.” 

With varying degrees of interest others besides 
Jacob had listened to Simeon’s words, for several 
of the men from the blockaded sleighs had left 
them and come forward to the point of collision 
between the stagemen. 

These spectators now saw a second hesitation 
on Lane’s part, but it quickly vanished. 


280 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Temptation. Temptation ! I must n’t listen 
to it. Nor shall you, Sim Beddecker. Nor shall 
you. Once more, for the last time, — it ’s flyin’ 
fast, poor sinner ! an’ your day o’ grace is 
almost spent, — will you go peaceable to meetin’ 
an’ plant yourself down where religion can touch 
you, or will you not ? ” 

As he uttered this demand, rather than ques- 
tion, the enthusiasm in Jacob’s eye congealed 
into a stern resolve. With his hand on his oppo- 
nent’s collar he silently awaited the reply, and 
the spectators as breathlessly waited with him. 
NO!!” 

Like the roar of an angry animal this negative 
was tossed from Simeon to his tormentor, who 
actually rebounded from the shock. Then, all 
suddenly, the fierceness fell away from him and 
a look of ineffable compassion and gentleness 
stole over his face. Still retaining his hold upon 
Simeon’s collar, Jacob bent forward and whispered 
a few words in its owner’s ear. 

The curious people craned their necks, smiling 
at the little by-play; but they ceased to smile 
and opened their eyes in wonder as they beheld 
the transformation that whisper wrought upon 
its recipient. 

Sim’s face grew pallid and terrified. For an 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


281 


instant he stared stupidly into his rival’s counte- 
nance ; then, as silently as a mute might have 
done, he began to move his horses out of the way, 
backward toward the schoolhouse. 

When the wider space was reached which 
allowed of turning the vehicle around, this was 
done ; and still silently, in the same quietude 
which had fallen also upon all the watchful peo- 
ple behind them, he now led the way toward the 
designated spot. 

Fifteen minutes later, with his arm about 
Simeon’s shoulder and (as did not escape the 
observation of some) his hand still upon the lat- 
ter’s collar, Jacob marched proudly down the 
schoolhouse aisle and planted his captive firmly 
on the anxious seat.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


MERCY AND WRATH. 

O NE week after Simeon Beddecker’s forcible 
conversion, the emotional excitement 
culminated in a meeting devoted to the young. 

Especially were the evangelist’s efforts directed 
toward arousing interest in the hearts of the lads 
whose ages ranged from fifteen to twenty years, 
and among whom, it had been noticeable, there 
were fewer awakenings than in any other class. 

Everybody was in the schoolhouse who could 
get there and whom it would hold, — Deacon 
Tewksbury the most in evidence, looking like a 
stranger, with his pale face and crutches ; having 
that evening left the shelter of the Dominie’s 
house for the first time since he had been carried 
into it nearly frozen. He limped back and forth 
across the platform, shouting, singing, exhorting, 
all at once ; and, finally directing : — 

Come up here, you young folks, every one of 
you ! Make way there, good neighbors, for these 
poor ignorant childern. Give the preacher a 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


283 


short range to fire at ’em with his gospel bullets. 
Come, Jimmy Bolton ! Come, Philip — you ring- 
leader in mischief ; an’ you, Dan’l, the mountain- 
eer, ’at would n’t sign the pledge. Come, an’ get 
your heart softened at last. Kenew, Joseph, 
Luther — all of ye, come, come, come forard! ” 

Shrinking back, blushing furiously, already 
suffering indescribable tortures of bashfulness, 
led, pushed, and pulled by their friends, the un- 
regenerate ” youths stumbled into the seat imme- 
diately behind the mourners’ bench.” 

They had reason to fear, many of them, thus 
to face the full gaze of their fellow-townsmen, and 
it did not add to their comfort to have the girls, 
their somewhat despised and critical mates, ush- 
ered into the row next themselves. 

We must make this a glorious occasion,” cried 
the Deacon, excitedly, hobbling to and fro. I ’ve 
been let an’ hindered from bein’ amongst ye durin’ 
the rest o’ these meetin’s, but I ’m here to-night 
to give in my testimony, an’ I feel, I feel — ’at I 
must make the most on ’t I can. Yes, my young 
friends, I look for great revelations to-night. 
There have been strange goin’s-on, an’ wicked 
ones. But the works o’ darkness shall be made 
manifest in this light.” 

In the fierce glance which the Deacon trailed 


284 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

along the line of boyish faces before him they 
read a sort of menace ; and any youngster who is 
dared ” commonly responds in spirit. Their 
shamefaced awkwardness gave place to their 
habitual desire for fun, and at the word light,” 
Philip cast his own glance contemptuously toward 
the sputtering tallow candles overhead, and the 
low-burning whale-oil lamps, whose radiance an 
energetic woman was endeavoring to increase by 
picking up the soft wicks with a pin point. 

Jimmy Bolton echoed this wordless criticism 
by a titter, which was caught up and sent along 
from lad to lad till it reached the limits of the 
row. 

But the preacher had noticed this unpropitious 
beginning, and hastily arose to prevent further 
mischief. He was all aglow with Divine love, 
and not so far removed in years from the ages of 
those boys but that he could wholly sympathize 
with them. After the briefest of opening prayers 
he began, simply and directly : — 

Little sisters and brothers, this is my last 
night with you. I have overstayed my time and 
now I must go. I have a message for you and 
this is my only chance to deliver it, for in this 
world you and I will never meet again. I go to 
a home beyond far seas and to a heathen people — 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 285 

if SO be I shall live to reach them. You Ve all 
been well taught and you ’ve heard a great deal 
about Christ ; yet did any of you ever stop to 
think about just Christ the Lad ? — half-grown, 
half-strong, more than half-misunderstood, just 
as you are ; no doubt the jest and butt of many 
thoughtless people, as well as their drudge. He 
toiled in a carpenter’s shop. He fetched water 
and fagots for his mother. Probably He was called 
upon dozens of times a day to ^ do this ’ or ^ that ’ 
thing for some grown-up person, who thought 
then, as others think now, that a boy’s legs never 
can grow tired. Do you not pity Him, this beau- 
tiful young Prince, enthralled to a drudgery worse 
than ever held captive a prince of mere fairy tale ? 
In His natural humanity hating, maybe, this ser- 
vitude as much as you hate doing your father’s 
^ chores.’ Did you ever get acquainted with that 
Boy ? Then — do so now ! ” 

The theme was a beloved on'e to the young 
evangelist and he presented it with a novelty 
of language and ideas, clothing the yearning 
sincerity of his soul, which could not fail to move 
hearts simple as these. 

At the close of the address half the Owl 
Club ” to which he preached was in tears. The 
other half was uneasy and longed to get away 


286 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


from an influence sure to engulf obstinacy sooner 
or later ; and the more sanguine of the audience 
already felt that the meeting’s prayed-for result 
had been achieved. 

But — then uprose good Deacon Tewksbury, 
from his chair of state beside the Dominie's desk, 
and opened his lips to speak. 

^‘It was like falling off a mountain top into 
a muck hole,” was the forcible, if inelegant, 
comparison that one disturbed listener made 
afterwards. 

For the very first thing the new speaker said 
was : — 

Walk right up to the anxious seat, young 
brothers and sisters. Come. Let us hear the 
confession that will clean out your hearts all good 
an’ hullsome at the start. Who is it amongst you 
that begun that wicked ‘ Owl Club ’ ? What ’s 
been a-goin’ on in that old mill on the river 
bank ? What ’s become of all the money has 
disappeared from one house or ’nother, durin’ 
these past months sence that sinful organization 
was institooted ? Who took five dollars out 
o’ storekeeper Dill’s drawer ? Who dressed up 
in paint an’ feathers an’ went to the Widow 
Brown’s an’ scairt her out o’ six dollars an’ forty- 
seven cents ? Who had a skylarkin’ in old Elder 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 287 

Simpson’s fur-meadow barn an’ smoked pipes an’ 
set it afire an’ burnt it up to the ground ? Hey ? 
Who ’ll be the first to open his heart an’ repent 
an’ tell ? If ye hain’t done it yourselves, who ’ll 
name them other wrong-doers amongst the Valley 
boys what has ? ” 

Groaned one good mother at the back of the 
room : — 

“ Oh ! what a dreadful mistake ! He should n’t 
have taken that tone. He don’t know boys. 
Oh ! he ’s undoin’ all the good the other one has 
done ! ” 

Her lamentation was true. At this unexpected 
fusillade of rebuke, after such a moving outburst 
of tenderness, the face of every lad in that row 
behind the mourners’ bench ” grew hard and 
indignant. A few blanched and some hearts 
beat guiltily; but already the only thing that 
interested any was : Who ’d ha’ thought that ? 
How much does he know ? what ’ll he say next ? ” 

Scarce a youth among them but had hereto- 
fore proudly numbered himself a member of the 

Club ” and wore his Owl ” badge with satisfied 
composure ; but this was alarming ! 

However, in every sense, the inquisitor had 
shown his incorrect estimate of character. The 
one requisite for admission to this famous society 


288 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

which Phil had organized had been allegiance to 
a promise : I will not tattle.” 

Huh ! He thinks we ’ll tell on each other, 
does he ? Hoh ! ” 

Thoughts of scorn filled every youthful breast, 
and each lad braced himself upright in his place 
and threw his shoulders back, as facing an enemy, 
while a nudge of elbow- to-elbow telegraphed down 
the line : — 

“ Stick together ! Keep your mouths shut ! ” 
Let us sing,” remarked the preacher, hoping 
to alter the current of feeling. 

Immediately, with that perversity of incident 
which sometimes happens, a blundering, well- 
intentioned sister piped forth : — 

And from his righteous lips 

Shall this dread sentence sound ? 

And through the numerous guilty throng 
Spread black despair around ? ’’ 

And now to the single voice, other singers who 
had found their hymn books, took up with added 
volume and solemnity : — 

“ Depart from me, ye cursed, 

To everlasting flame, 

For rebel angels first prepared, 

Where mercy never came. 

How will — ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 289 

However, the third verse of that dolorous 
hymn was cut short by a direct interposition of 
nature. A single, heavy clap of thunder burst 
upon their startled ears, and died away in growl- 
ing reverberations, as if protesting against this 
doctrine of wrath. To the thunder succeeded a 
low, gathering sound, softer and more continuous: 
the rising of mighty winds and the onrush of a 
beleaguering rain. 

Women looked into each other’s faces in new 
affright, and those who lived at a distance fid- 
geted in their seats. 

During all these weeks since the great snow 
had fallen it had remained upon both mountain 
and lowland without perceptible wasting ; but of 
late, since the sun’s rays had had greater power 
over it, the enormous mass had softened and 
honeycombed,” till when the south wind arose 
it would offer but little resistance to that warm, 
dispersing breath. 

It looked like a storm, a terrible one, as 
we come along,” whispered Mrs. Beans to her 
neighbor, an’ I hn ’most sorry I did. Husband 
says there ’ll be a reg’lar washout when the 
snow does go.” 

Yes, an’ don’t you hate to hear thunder this 
time o’ year ? Always sort o’ scarey, I think. 

19 


290 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Hark ! They ’re goin’ to sing, and — My soul ! 
there it goes again ! What a clap ! Ain’t that 
awful ? ” 

This time the roar of the thunder was instantly 
followed by an equally loud roar of the wind, 
while a sudden dash of rain and hail against 
the thin window panes threatened their speedy 
destruction. 

Then the storm lulled, absolutely, and the 
hush of this peace seemed more ominous to some 
than the previous tumult had been. 

But not to Deacon Tewksbury. He had come 
to the meeting, it is to be hoped, with some idea 
of its religious benefit, but also with a deter- 
mination to discover the truth of a matter which 
had long perplexed and angered him. In all 
honesty he believed that the elements were 
getting up these strange manifestations of their 
power simply as an accessory to his eloquence, 
and he improved the silence by exclaiming : — 
Yes, yes, ye guilty ones ! Don’t you hear 
the thunder ? Don’t you feel the searching of 
that mighty wind ? What is it for but to tell 
you that there ’s no’ use in tryin’ to hide your 
wicked secrets any longer? Friends, brethren, 
sisters ! and you sinful young souls that have 
given yourselves over into Satan’s power, wake 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


291 


up and hear the summons. Confess, confess, an’ 
be saved ! Now, now, in this last hour o’ grace, 
before your chance is took from ye 1 I know, I 

— KNOW all about it ! Every single one among 
ye who’s been committin’ these awful sins. But 
I give you the chance first. Tell o’ your own 
accord, my dear young fellow-mortals, an’ save 
me the pain o’ doin’ it for ye. Tell — tell — 
tell ! Who took the money out o’ Dill’s drawer ? ” 

This was too terrible for the evangelist to 
endure. His loving heart yearned over those 
now frightened yet obstinate lads with the ten- 
derness born of God. With a stride forward be 
laid his thin, trembling hand upon the Deacon’s 
broad shoulder. 

Not this way, oh ! my brother ! Not in this 
way of anger and terror ! But by love, by mercy, 
by that sweet charity which wins ! The charge 
you have whispered into my ears this evening 

— how can I believe it of such young, healthy, 
happy youths as these ? No, no. Not in that 
way. Oh ! leave them to me. This — ” 

A sudden inspiration seemed to seize him. 
With an almost imploring gesture he turned and 
swept his gaze over the adults who filled the 
main part of the room. 

You, my older brothers and sisters, is it not 


292 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

possible for you to go away and leave us to our- 
selves ? This is the young folks’ meeting. I, 
too, am young. I know how hard it is to show 
the enthusiasm of an untried soul to the hard 
gaze of experience. Please go away and leave 
us children all together — with the Lord.” 

Yet, even as he asked this favor, he realized 
that it could not well be granted ; and reading 
a swift denial in the faces he searched, he re- 
treated to his chair and buried his own face in 
his hands, praying silently for those he would 
befriend. 

Not this way. Preacher ? What way, then ? 
Are we to bring souls to the truth an’ yet not let 
’em hear it? Pooh! I’ve no sort o’ patience 
with this new-fangled doctrine o’ jest mercy, 
mercy, mercy 1 Show mercy to an unruly colt 
an’ he ’ll kick ye. Let these here sinful boys 
think they can pull the wool over our eyes any 
longer an’ they ’ll go on from bad to worse. No. 
If they won’t confess for themselves I ’ll have to 
do it for ’em. Then we ’ll pray an’ convict ’em 
o’ the sin, if we can. If we can’t there’s other 
ways o’ convictin’ — an’ they ’ll find it out. 
They ’ll find it out I ” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


UNDER THE OLD HORSE-SHED. 

FIERCER gust than any which had gone 



before it hurled itself against the school- 
house, and the structure shook under the onslaught. 
But silence still sealed the lips of that row of 
stern-faced youths, who confronted the Deacon 
with the firmness of innocence or the indifference 
of guilt. 

The sight of their immobile countenances 
seemed but to infuriate their accuser, who had 
suffered little opposition in his life, and who 
found this boyish audacity intolerable. 

“ Well, then, you wretched sinners, let the 
blame rest on your own heads if you are here 
disgraced before your neighbors. I Ve given 
ye a chance an’ you Ve despised it. An’ I ’ll 
bring home the charges to ye, in order, one by 
one. The ringleader — No. Not him the first. 
He can wait, — though he’s led the wickedest 
set o’ boys at ever polluted the Valley with their 
presence, they bein’ all too ready, by fur, to 


294 THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

follow where he showed the path. But let him 
wait a spell. You, Luther Beans, stan’ up.” 

This astonished lad remained seated. But his 
honest, happy-go-lucky face crimsoned till it 
seemed the blood would burst through the skin. 

You won’t, hey? Well, never mind. I can 
tell the hull story jest as well with you an’ the 
rest your guilty mates a sittin’ down. Not one 
shall escape. Luther Beans — I accuse you o' 
takin’ that money out o’ storekeeper Dill’s 
drawer. For what ? To — gamble — with. TO 
— GAMBLE — WITH.” 

In spite of the storm which gathered again, 
there was a silence that could be felt, after this 
terrible accusation. But the Deacon had paused 
only for effect. Almost immediately he went 
on, with a satisfied rapidity and unflinching 
plainness : — 

It was you, James Bolton, parson’s son ’at 
you be, who dressed up in ghost clothes an’ went 
to the Widow Brown’s in the dead o’ night, an’ 
made her give you up all the money she had in 
the house, almost all she had in the world. For 
what ? To gamble with ! ” 

The poor minister on the platform behind his 
angry parishioner groaned aloud, and hid his eyes 
from his son’s disgrace. 


THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 295 

You, Dan’l Starbuck, it was you, a-beginnin* 
when you first set your foot into this Valley to do 
evil. You near pounded to his death my young 
and recently converted kinsman, the fatherless 
Renew Hapgood. I accuse you o’ tryin’ to do 
me mortal damage, a takin’ them nuts an’ pins out 
o’ my wagon, right here to the schoolhouse when 
I come to visit it. An’ more : o’ settin’ fire to 
that fur-meadow barn. An’ further : o’ paintin’ 
the minister’s poor horse. Of sech general 
bedevilment as ’ll ruin the hull school an’ the hull 
community if you don’t confess your guilt an’ 
take your punishment ; though it would be easier 
to have you clear out, at once.” 

Daniel’s face looked as if marked by exclama- 
tion points at every feature, but his honest gaze 
was never once removed from his accuser’s spec- 
tacles ; which, apparently imparted some cloud 
to their clearness, for they were immediately 
taken off to be wiped on a silk handkerchief. 

The accusation was resumed : — 

^^An’ now I come to them in high places. 
Most of all to Philip Sampson, that innercent 
lookin’ boy, ’at ’ll do more wickedness in a day ’an 
ary other ever thought on. You, Philip Samp- 
son, stan’ up. I’ve that to say to you ’at can’t 
be said an’ you a-sittin’ down,” 


296 THE LITTLE RED SCIIOOLHOUSE. 

Certainly, if it will oblige you/’ replied the 
lad, rising with easy grace, erect and undismayed. 
Seen thus, even in the dim light which surrounded 
him, he seemed the handsomest specimen of in- 
cipient manhood which had ever shone upon the 
admiring, pitying eyes of the Yalley people. 

“ My ! but he ’s a bonny boy ! ” exclaimed Jake 
Lane, audibly, and lovingly. 

Philip Sampson, in the presence of all these 
people, I ask you what you have done with that 
three hunderd dollars you stole out o’ my pocket 
that night you found me in the snow.” 

The lad had expected nothing like this. The 
worst he had foreboded had been the disclosure 
of what seemed to him matter of little import — 
even if not wholly in accordance with Valley 
principles — and he had hoped to face it out with 
the disdain he brought to any other simple 
reprimand. 

But this blow staggered him. He reeled visi- 
bly ; then righted himself, squared his fine shoul- 
ders, tossed back his fair hair, and though his 
cheek paled till some women looked to see him 
faint, his eyes riveted themselves unflinchingly 
upon his accuser’s and he answered not a word. 

Humph ! So you think to brazen it out, do 
ye ? That your family’s standin’ in the commun- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 297 

ity ’ll help cover up a theft like that ? For it is 
a thief I name you, an’ in a court o’ jestice I ’ll 
prove it. Shame on ye, Philip Sampson, son o’ 
Philip Sampsons, an’ honest men from way back ! 
To be a — ” 

But the dreadful word was not again uttered. 
Before it could pass the accuser’s lips it was 
choked back into his throat by a pair of strong 
hands, which caught and held him in their ter- 
rible grip, swaying him to and fro like a wind- 
blown reed. 

A dozen men sprang forward promptly, to in- 
terfere, and Daniel’s hands were finally wrenched 
from the Deacon’s throat ; and at that instant the 
tempest broke again over the spot in such wise 
that puny human passion died abashed before it. 

For a moment, as the man had been swayed 
by the lad, so the little red schoolhouse rocked in 
the force of that gale, while the flashing of the 
lightning and the booming of the thunder almost 
stilled the beating of every heart. 

The breaking of glass, the crashing of riven 
timbers, the falling of trees, drove away, for a 
space, every thought save that of personal safety. 

Then — The horses ! ” cried one man, at last, 
and started for the door. 

A single touch upon its latch sent the slight 


298 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


barricade inward upon its hinges, knocking him 
backward against a crowd of followers, who had 
been aroused by his example to think of the 
animals tied beneath the sheds outside. 

It was there it struck ! ’’ cried another, recov- 
ering from the shock of his fellows and dashing 
forward into the rain. 

Only to be driven instantly back. No man 
could stand against that irresistible storm, and 
though his retreat had been so sudden he had 
become thoroughly drenched. 

Shut the door ! shut the door ! The candles 
are going out ! 

We can’t. The wind ’s too strong.” 

Oh ! my soul ! Oh ! my po’ sinful soul ! 
We ’se all be killed. It is the jedgment day ! ” 
shrieked old Susan, and her outcry was caught up 
and re-echoed by hysterical women all over the 
building. 

Men groaned. Some shouted in prayer. A 
young girl fainted. For awhile utter confusion 
and desperate terror reigned. Had it been pos- 
sible the disorder would have been augmented 
by the fact that the strong draught which swept 
through the place, between the broken window 
on one side and the opened door on the other, 
extinguished nearly every candle. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHO JSE. 299 

The dim lamplight still remained, yet even 
these small flames flickered in the current and 
threatened to expire at any instant. However, 
the almost incessant flashes of lightning made 
everything visible, and, finally, unable longer to 
endure the scene, Jake Lane pressed forward 
toward the platform and shouted, cheerily : — 
Pray, preacher, pray ! You pray an’ I ’ll 
work ! Who ’ll follow me to the rescue o’ them 
horses ? ” 

In the silence that his words brought they 
could hear each other’s hearts beat. Then the 
resonant voice of the evangelist — calm, fear- 
less, even triumphant — called to them above the 
roar of the swelling gust : — 

^ Be still, and know that I am God. I will 
be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted 
in the earth.’ ” 

That jubilant tone broke the spell of terror. 
At the same moment, also, the lightning showed 
Jacob climbing through the shattered window in 
the direction of the sheds. 

Daniel was the first to understand and imitate 
thg stageman’s example ; and though the wind 
caught them ■ up and dashed them upon the 
ground as they forced themselves into the outer 
world, they had now gained an unnatural strength 


300 THI LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

from the excitement and the incentive to save 
life. As soon as they regained their feet Jacob 
caught Daniel around the body, and, making a 
united effort, they struggled to the sheds. 

The snow — it ’s so much deep water — over 
boot-tops a’ ready. Them folks must — be got — 
out — an’ home. If the dam gives — way, nothin’ 
— can save ’em.” 

How ? ” gasped Daniel, unable to say more. 

See. The shed ’s afire — over there. No ! 
It’s out. The rain — Well, begin with the first 
team. If somebody else — yes, they’re cornin’.” 

A few men joined these pioneers and a hurried 
consultation was held. The flood was growing 
greater each second. A brief while later every 
road would be impassible, if not already so. 

Daniel suggested : — 

Form a cordon o’ men, by joinin’ hands. 
Pass each team from one to t’other, only lettin’ 
go your grip as little as may be. Get ’em round 
to the leeward o’ the schoolhouse, an’ pass the 
women an’ childern through the windows there. 
Fix ’em snug ’s you can in the wagons, an’ then 
let every man start towards home — trestin’ more 
to his horse ’an to himself. Natur’ ’ll teach ’em 
what ’s best to do.” 

The plan was the best devised and was 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 301 

adopted. Yet some idea of the wind’s terrific 
force may be had from the fact that again and 
again, almost as fast for awhile as it could be 
formed, the rope o’ men ” would be broken by 
one or more being thrown to the ground. 

Daniel was the first in line, close under the 
shed, and his knowledge of animal nature stood 
him in good stead ; for he could often quiet a 
rearing, terrified beast which would not allow its 
own owner to come near it. 

At length the shed was empty. A few of the 
most unmanageable horses had been cut loose 
from their vehicles and turned free to care for 
themselves, which was more humane than to 
leave them under the rocking roof that might 
fall and crush them at any moment. 

There, Dan, that ’s a good night’s work ! ’’ 
cried Jake Lane, drawing a long breath of relief. 

The wind ’s failin’ a mite. Come into the 
schoolhouse now. There ’s some folks left. I ’ll 
stay an’ do what I can. Come. You ’ve done 
well. No matter — Come.” 

As the driver’s voice died in the gale and he dis- 
appeared toward the schoolhouse, Daniel started 
to obey ; but he was exhausted, and leaned against 
the upright ” of the shed to regain his breath 
and strength. 


V 


302 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Resting thus he heard another voice, — one 
which would have arrested his footsteps any- 
where, on the brink of any peril, so dear it was 
to his boyish soul. 

Dan ! Hold on. Wait. Don’t go. I ’ve 
got to tell you something.” 

Phil ! You here ? Go away — I — seems ’s 
if — the shed ’s movin’.” 

It ’s only the wind. Say, Dan, I ’m off. 
Good-bye. Sometime I ’ll let you hear from me. 
Sometime I hope — Make it easy to Aunt Seraph a 
and little Nell. She ’s a dear, but — There ! I 
must n’t talk. Don’t tell if you can help it. Let 
them think — anything they choose. Maybe that 
I was killed in the storm. It ’s the best way. 
Good-bye, old fellow, good-bye ! ” 

There was a fierce grip of his hand, a boyish, 
loving slap upon his shoulder, and the woodlander 
was alone again. 

Philip ! ” he called eagerly, and tried to fol- 
low. But something seemed wrong with him, 
oddly enough. His head felt light and queer. 
He waited an instant, till he could see better.” 
Yet again he called, less strongly : — 

Philip ! Wait ! Let ’s go home — together.” 
There was no answer. 

Sho ! I ’m gettin’ silly in my wits, like Nate 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


303 


Heard. I ’m awful tired. I ’ll wait a spell, 
then — I wonder what he meant. Hmin. My 
head — ” 

It was some moments afterward that the people 
still left in the schoolhouse, who were prisoners 
for the time being, since they could not walk 
home as they had walked thither, heard a heavy 
crash outside. It was close at hand and louder 
than an}^ tree-fall which had gone before. 

Oh ! there goes the shed ! How fortunate 
that all the horses were gotten out of it before it 
fell ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE MORNING AFTER. 



S the sun rose on the morning after the 


jL\ storm, Jacob Lane rode swiftly up to the 
entrance of Sampson House and hallooed lustily 
for some one from within. 

To his surprise Miss Sampson herself opened 
the upper half of the old-fashioned door and in- 
quired, courteously, the reason of his summons. 

Hmm. Well — is the Doctor in ? ” 

No. He has been out since midnight.’’ 

Don’t know when he ’ll be home, I s’pose.” 

No. When his work is all done — if you 
can guess at that time. Why ? Who is it needs 
him now ? ” 

Mis’ Hapgood. She ’s a-takin’ on terrible. 
On account o’ Renew’s bein’ drownded.” 

Renew — drowned ! How horrible. Yet no. 
Go back and tell her she ’s a happy woman ; to 
dry her tears and set about serving her less for- 
tunate neighbors.” 


Ma’ — am ! M-a-a’-am ? 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 305 

Good Jacob was utterly dumfounded. Then he 
promptly formulated in his own mind the one ex- 
cuse he always made for the uncomprehended 
actions of the opposite sex : — 

1 forgot. She’s a woman. They’re jest 
riddles.” 

Aloud he said : Ruelly ain’t the only woman’s 
broken-hearted in the Valley to-day. There’s 
Sim Beddecker’s wife been ridin’ bare-back from 
Dan to Beersheba, askin’ every mortal she meets 
for her man. His clothes, some on ’em, was 
picked up, too, away down the turnpike, where 
they ’d washed from somewheres. I ’m hopin’ 
he ’ll turn up, after a spell. He ’s able-bodied 
an’ crafty-headed ; don’t believe he ’d get him- 
self drownded, not till the last extremity. But 
Renew’s different. He ’s young an’ — ” 

Jacob paused abruptly and regarded Aunt 
Delight with a critical air. He was thinking : 

I ’ll jest search her countenance an’ see how 
she ’s feelin’ ’bout that fool talk o’ the Deacon’s. 
An’ I hope, maybe, she hain’t heerd it. Only — ” 
And now his thought was interrupted, as his 
speech had been, — this time by the lady herself 
inquiring, in the most casual way : — 

Oh ! Jacob. Do you happen to know where 
Daniel is ? He has n’t been home yet, and with 
20 


306 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


the Doctor away and Abraham gone into the Val- 
ley to look after the far barns and tool-houses, I 
need him.” 

Why, no, Ma’am. I hain’t seen him. Not 
to-day. Last night he done a man’s work — yes, 
two men’s. He ’s a noble feller, is that young 
mountaineer, no matter what that old Deacon 
said ag’in him. I ’ve always found him straight, 
every time I tackled him, an’ that ’s consid’able 
often. The only thing needin’ is — I wish he ’d 
been converted ! And I think he would ha’ been, 
only for the Deacon’s talk. It ’d ’a’ been a good 
thing if he ’d been too lame to got out to meet- 
ing last night, — a good thing in every way. 
He ’s like to be laid up ag’in, from the exposure ; 
but, thank fortune ! this time he ’ll do his gruntin’ 
in his own house, where they ’re used of him, an’ 
not worry the life out o’ poor Dominie Davidson 
no more. He was druv home, last night, the 
Deacon was, in about the first wagon left the 
schoolhouse, an’ good riddance to him ! ” 

By this harangue honest Jacob intended to 
convey a number of ideas : that he, for one, 
disbelieved entirely in the terrible accusations 
brought against the Valley lads, most especially 
those against the two of her own household, 
and yet, that he sympathized in her distress if 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


307 


these reports had reached her — which he hoped 
they had not ; that, in any case, she could 
count upon him as she had always counted, save 
and excepting during the late revival, when he 
had allowed his spiritual business to get the 
better of his worldly. 

Yes. Daniel is a good boy. So I believe. 
I have always found him superior to what I had 
expected of him. And, if you see him, just 
mention, please, that he will be doing as much 
good at home as in helping elsewhere.” 

“ Yes, Ma’am,” replied the stageman, meekly. 
He could n’t understand it, yet somehow, by 
these few words, uttered in that calm tone of 
hers, he felt that Miss Sampson disdained both 
his aid and his sympathy. 

Then he glanced into her stern face and sud- 
denly remembered the sunny brightness of Phil- 
ip’s. Her he respected, profoundly, but Philip 
he loved. So he burst out abruptly, — 

As for that cussed thing the Deacon — ” 
Miss Delight raised her hand, protesting. 

A man who has jusf experienced religion 
should be overflowing with charity and should 
hate profanity. But you are wondering. Yes, 
Jacob, I have heard. Susan went ^ to get her 
soul saved ’ again last night — she speaks of the 


308 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


matter as if it were buying a pair of shoes — 
and she brought back the word. Some friendly 
neighbor dumped her on the back porch in a 
flood of w'ater up to her boot-tops, and her fervor 
got a little dashed. But she did not forget her 
news nor her indignation ; and — that is all, I 
believe. If the Doctor comes in I will tell him 
about Mrs. Hapgood. However, please give her 
my message. Adding, if you will be so kind, 
that we, at Sampson House, will serve her in 
any way possible to us. Good-morning.” 

With a stately bow and a face as calm as the 
light growdng in the eastern sky. Delight Samp- 
son closed the half-door between herself and her 
visitor ; but could his shrewd gaze have pene- 
trated the oaken timbers he would have seen a 
gray shadow flit over the proud countenance, and 
the gray head bowed for an instant in bitter 
humility. 

But no such abnormal vision belonged to 
Jacob Lane, and he rode away almost as angry 
with her as he was with Deacon Tewksbury, 
with his simple brain in a muddle, and his heart 
filled by a gathering new anxiety. 

Plague take it all ! There is a difference 
between them kind o’ folks an’ — an’ mine. 
Why don’t she sputter out her mad ? Can it be 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 309 

she believes it ? Believes it — she, a Sampson, 
of a Sampson ? Most ary woman I know M had 
her eyes half cried out, but she — Sho. An’ 
that ’s queer about Dan’l. Hain’t been home 
yet. Did n’t say Phil had nuther. Last time 
I saw either of ’em, Dan was restin’ a mite in 
the old shed, an’ Phil on his way from the school- 
house toward it. To jine him, I reckoned. Them 
two was thicker ’n molasses in the winter time. 
I ’ll — Oh ! my soul ! ” 

A sudden, horrible thought had come as a 
climax to Jacob’s soliloquy, and he checked the 
gray horse so fiercely that it reared on its 
haunches, while every vestige of color died from 
its owner’s ruddy countenance. 

The next instant horse and rider were gallop- 
ing headlong through the flooded Valley, guessing 
where its roads were hidden or caring for none 
at all ; splashing the water till it drenched them 
both at each plunge forward ; and leaping over 
the great cakes of ice that had washed up from 
river and canal, as well as over tree trunks and 
timbers riven from many an outlying barn. 

It was a wild and terrible scene on which the 
sun rose that morning. Its like had never been 
seen — please God might never be again — in 
that fair Valley. The last vestige of snow had 


310 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

disappeared. The earth, wherever it uprose, was 
black and washed free from even the dead ver- 
dure that had covered it beneath the snow. But 
mostly, over all ran that fierce brown flow of 
water, water — working ruin everywhere. 

To the few men abroad, intent upon saving 
some bit of floating property, Jacob yelled madly 
as he dashed by, and they bethought them at 
once of some new calamity ; or else, that the 
sight of so much suffering and destruction had 
turned the brain of this simple soul who had no 
thought save love for his fellow-men. 

Some, to whom he came nearer on the watery 
path, caught the anguished cry, — 

To the schoolhouse ! Leave all ! To the 
scboolhouse ! The schoolhouse ! ” 

Visions of little children — rosy no longer — 
Ah ! let the barns and the haystacks float whither 
they would ! 

To the schoolhouse they rode, each one gone 
mad like the first. For the Valley was the home 
of little children, the children they loved, whose 
price was above all the store of barn or granary, 
above the devastated farms, ay, even above life 
itself. 

Each shouted to his fellow afar off, who heard 
and turned and rode a frenzied pace ; and the 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHGUSE. 311 

foani-flecked horses gathered one by one in the 
pool that had been a playground. 

Jake ! What is it, man ? Why do you tear 
at that old shed like that ? ” 

The lads ! the lads 

His quivering lips could frame no more. They 
had no need. To those warm hearts they had 
spoken volumes. 

In a silence none could break they tore and 
ripped and struggled at the timbers. Alas ! in 
those old days men builded even horse-sheds 
honestly and well, of beams and planks that 
should outlast a dozen generations. Even these 
labor-strong arms would have found the task 
hopeless, all without tools as they had come, had 
not the lightning’s work prepared the way before 
them. 

When a fair headway had been made and the 
united efforts of all had raised the stanch shin- 
gled roof a little way, one caught a glimpse of a 
lad’s coat beneath, and closed his eyes in horror. 

But Jacob had gathered a new hope. Rather, 
he was a man in whom hope never died, and he 
found speech easier than to see that dreadful 
look upon his neighbors face. 

Oh ! that ’s nothin’. He took it off when he 
was workin’ at the horses. He got so warm, 


312 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

you see. Look. He ain’t near it. I ’ll call. 
Maybe — Daniel ! Oh ! Daniel ! Lad, be you 
there ? ” 

There was no response, yet the call had done a 
good thing, — it had broken the terrible tension 
of fear which had enthralled them. The toilers, 
some of them, caught a portion of Jacob’s hope, 
and even those who did not toiled as faithfully 
as if they had. 

In a few moments they had made double 
progress. 

You see,” said Jacob, cheerily, there ’s a 
first-rate chance he would n’t be hurt much, even 
if he was under it. An’ I don’t see no signs o’ 
Philip. I hope they ain’t nuther on ’em nigh. 
Only this old coat.” 

Yet it was noticed that he lifted the garment 
reverently and laid it aside upon a dry timber, as 
if it were a sentient thing. 

Then he fell to work again ; and when he saw 
that, as he had said might be, there was a corner 
where the timbers yet held intact and formed a 
sort of cave beneath, he put all his courage to 
the test and called softly : — 

Daniel ! Hey, Danny, boy ! ” 

Silence. Then an exclamation that was half 
groan, half shout. 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 313 

Here ! Here ! He 's here ! ” 

Jacob at the head, another tenderly lifting the 
feet that had so willingly served others, they 
bore the lad through the flood into the school- 
house, whose floor was deep with the same dirty 
yellow water. There, on an improvised litter 
above the tops of the benches, they laid him, 
while Jacob fell to rubbing the great limp hands 
and chafing the numb limbs as if he would infuse 
into them a portion of his own overflowing life. 

Maybe he did. For after a time that seemed 
interminable the woodlander opened his ^ blue 
eyes languidly, and gazed into the face above 
him. 

Not for this did Jacob relax his zeal, nor till 
languor had given place to a feeble anger, and the 
boy had demanded, with w^eak resistance : — 

What — you doin’ ?” 

It was a tenet of the stageman’s simple phi- 
losophy : If you want to brace up a man — or a 
horse — jest make ’em mad.” So he replied by 
asking, testily : — 

Why did n’t you come out o’ that there shed 
when I told ye to, — ’stead o’ makin’ all this 
work ?” 

‘^1 — don’t — know.” 

Humph. Well, where ’s Philip ? ” 


314 THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Daniel raised liis hand to pass it over his brow, 
but a twinge of pain caused him to drop it again. 
However, the pain had brought clearer remem- 
brance, and he cried : — 

Was he under there ? Is he — hurt ? 
D-e-a-d? — ” 

No. Nuther one,^’ asserted Jacob, in sublime 
confidence that none of these questions dared be 
answered affirmatively. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


NEWS AND A GIFT. 

T T ELEN, put on your hat and sacque, and 

JTx come for a walk with me. I have 
something to say to you. I will be ready in a 
few moments.” 

Yes, Aunt Delight.” 

Surprise prevented any further reply ; but hav- 
ing prepared for her outing, the girl paused for a 
bit in her mother’s room to mention this request 
and to wonder why it had been made. 

I cannot tell you, dear. But waste no time 
in surmises. Is n’t this the first time that Aunt 
has left the house since the flood and Philip’s 
disappearance ? ” 

The very first. Mamma. Oh ! I do hope she 
won’t talk to me about him. She believes him 
wicked — I know she does — and I never will. 
Sometimes it seems as if she had no heart, for 
she keeps so calm and quiet and sort of don’t- 
care-y.” 

Helen ! Her whole life has been a proof of 
her great heart. The deepest feeling does not 


316 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

always show upon the surface. Poor Aunt is 
suffering profoundly, even though she makes no 
complaint. Is n’t she as kind to you as ever ? ” 
^^Yes. Even lots kinder. I wish she wasn’t. 
’Cause it seems like taking Phil’s place, Phil’s 
things. I don’t like that. I was always glad, 
glad to have her love and pet him most, because 
I had you and Papa, and he needed her more. 
But — ” 

‘ But ’ — don’t take fancies, little daughter. 
Run and do your sunny best to cheer up Aunt 
Delight. I wish you the pleasantest of walks.” 

Thank you, and good-bye. Mamma. Though 
I can’t feel that she needs any cheering up.” 

Miss Sampson stood waiting beside the sun- 
dial in the old garden fronting Sampson House. 
The stately lady suited the primly ordered par- 
terre, with its privet-trees exactly in each corner, 
and its squarely clipped box-borders along the 
weedless gravel-paths ; but there was a tender 
smile upon her noble face as she watched Helen’s 
dancing feet come speeding down the slope to 
stop with a graceful pirouette close beside herself. 

Oh ! Auntie dear ! Just smell the hyacinths 
and jonquils ! I did n’t know they were so far 
out. And the daffies and tulips are fairly nodding 
their heads off, they are so happy in this breeze 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 317 

and sunshine. Isn’t the world lovely, lovely? 
this May day ? ” 

Very beautiful, iny dear.” 

It ’s so good just to be alive. Hear the 
robins telling stories ! Oh ! you naughty birds ! 
Your ^ feet ’ are not ^ wet ’ ! There ’s not even a 
drop of dew left anywhere. It ’s all pure sunshine 
and blue sky.” 

Feet are — wet ! feet are — wet ! ” chirped 
the ruddy-breasted birdlings, out of pure mischief, 
so it seemed. 

At which Helen laughed and Miss Sampson’s 
grave face lost something of its calm sadness. 

It ’s good to go out with you again. Auntie 
Delight. Where are we going ? For how long a 
walk ? By the fields or the ’pike, or only 
around the home-place?” 

I ’m to answer which question I please, I 
suppose, since you do not pause between them,” 
answered the lady, smiling ; and looking into the 
girl’s bonny face she felt almost as if it were 
^^good just to be alive” still; though of late life 
had not seemed especially desirable to her proud 
heart. Well, then, by the foot-path way to the 
river and the ruins of the old mill.” 

A shadow chased the sunshine out of Helen’s 
eyes. 


318 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Oh ! Auntie ! There ? 

Just there, my dear.” 

It ’s awfully desolate. I saw it but the once, 
yet I dreamed of it for nights afterward.” 

“ All the more reason you should look upon it 
again with a common-sense glance.” 

Where people died.” 

Miss Sampson made no response, and in silence 
the pair crossed the sunny meadows, by the foot- 
path through the grass which led straight from 
the garden gate of Sampson House to the spot 
where the old grist-mill had stood for a hundred 
years. Till the night of the flood, when, like 
many another old landmark, it had met destruc- 
tion — carrying death with it. 

The mighty mill-wheel still hung, half-broken, 
as it had always hung since Helen could remem- 
ber, but the great yawning foundation cavern was 
new and awful. 

Aunt Delight, do you suppose it went down 
all at once? Were they in the room upstairs — 
Mr. Beddecker and poor Renew ? If it had nT 
been for the meeting that night many more might 
have been here, too. And, oh ! Auntie ! that 
hole down there ! How deep and dark and terri- 
ble ! Was it there ? ” 

The fascination of horror held the imaginative 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 319 

girl as she leaned far over the abyss of ruin, peer- 
ing into the depths below ; while Miss Sampson, 
silent and abstracted, seated herself upon a jutting 
piece of timber near at hand, — till, suddenly 
turning, she observed the dangerous poise of her 
charge above the chasm, and cried out in warning : 

Move back directly, Helen. All these stones 
and beams that are left are jarred from their 
places and unsafe. Sit back. I came here to 
talk to you a little, and to see — 

But what she hoped to see she did not say ; 
and, awed by the sternness that had again set- 
tled upon Miss Sampson’s features, Helen im- 
mediately removed her seat to a safer distance 
from the brink and turned her back upon it. 
The wide outlook of the green fields was far 
pleasanter than that dark ruin ; and to rouse her 
aunt, or cheer her up,’’ as she had been bidden, 
she asked : — 

Auntie, will you tell me why it is that old 
Deacon Tewksbury so hates poor Dominie Dav- 
idson and persecutes him still ? — even after 
having been ill and so^ kindly cared for at the 
Master’s house, who is so good and gentle I can- 
not understand anybody being his enemy. Why 
is it all?” 

The very goodness that you mention is the 


cause. 


320 


THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


How could it be ? ” 

The Tewksburys once had a son, — a lively, 
careless boy, who rebelled against his father’s 
sternness and too rigid discipline. The Deacon’s 
idea was that hard work and no play was good 
for lads, and he gave his own no holidays, ex- 
cept once a year, the annual school picnic, held 
then as it is now. One year he forbade even 
this to Galusha. Jacob Lane is Mrs. Tewksbury’s 
nephew. He was an orphan and lived there. 
He was full of fun and reckless, and he coaxed 
Galusha to run away to the picnic. It was held 
on the river bank, and in some way or other the 
Tewksbury boy fell into the water and was nearly 
drowned.” 

Oh ! was n’t his father sorry 

Quite the contrary. He would neither for- 
give nor receive his son at home. He had threat- 
ened to cast the lad adrift at the next disobedience, 
and he did. Dominie Davidson took Galusha 
in and cared for him till he was well, then, 
oddly enough, mortgaged his own little place 
— to the Deacon — to raise a few hundred dol- 
lars for Galusha’s benefit. Dominie always 
believed in young Tewksbury, and the elder one 
never forgave that fact. Then, too, the mortgage, 
begun in such a curious way, was occasionally 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 321 

increased, till now the Tewksbury claim on the 
little Davidson property almost covers the latter’s 
value/’ 

Why did Master do that ? Mortgaging is 
running in debt, is n’t it ? That ’s what I under- 
stood from Papa’s explanation once.” 

About the same thing, dear. Dominie David- 
son has increased his indebtedness each time 
simply to help out some person in trouble : the 
Widow Brown, once ; and the Walshes again. 
His own wants are few. He ’d live easily enough 
on his salary if he did n’t give so much away. 
Those Hapgoods keep him poor. Buella is no 
housekeeper nor manager, to my notion.” 

“ Will the Deacon take the little farm away ? ” 
Probably. He wants it to ^ square out his 
own property,’ he says ; in reality, I think, to 
satisfy his grudge against the opposer of his own 
will and the friend of his son. However, he is a 
good man — according to his perceptions.” 

Hmm. I like the Master’s sort of goodness 
best. Don’t you ? ” 

Receiving nb answer, Helen went on : — 

‘^Did they ever hear from that Galusha — 
what a funny name ! — again ? ” 

Never, that I know. He is supposed to be 
dead.” 


21 


322 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


Ahem. But, beggin’ your pardon, Ma’am, 
that ’s what he ain’t ! He ’s as much alive as 
you or I be, this minute ! ” 

Miss Sampson’s head turned in surprise at this 
unexpected interruption, and Helen ran forward 
to clasp the rough hand of the man who had 
approached them unperceived. 

Why, Mr. Lane ! I did n’t hear you come.” 

No, child, I don’t s’pose you did. The grass 
is soft this time o’ year. No, Ma’am. Galush’ 
ain’t dead. I ’ve come here — I was on my way 
to see you to your house — with this here letter 
in my band. Writ by him. Tellin’ the aston- 
ishin’ news that Sim Beddecker an’ Kenew Hap- 
good, ^at all have s’posed was drownded when 
the old mill went down, are alive an’ kickin’. 
But — a couple o’ rattlesnakes, I call ’em, the 
pair.” 

« Why, Mr. Lane ! What do you mean ? ” 

It ’s ruther a long story. Have I your permit 
to set down on this stun ? It ’s warm hurryin’ 
as I have.” 

Surely. Sit down at once, please.” 

Jacob made himself comfortable on a mossy 
rock and spread an open letter out upon the 
ground before him, regarding it first with one 
eye half closed, then with the other, in an odd 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


323 


fashion that sent Helen off into a peal of laugh- 
ter. Which he did not resent in the least ; 
merely smiled back upon her and facetiously 
winked again. 

Laugh away, little girl. I ’low we ’ll all do 
some laughin’ afore this game ’s played out. 
Well, Ma’am, to begin to the beginnin’. I hain ’t 
been satisfied with the way things has been 
a-goin’, this ’long back. So I ’ve been doin’ a 
bit o’ detective work on my own hook. First 
place, Galush’ never died. He took the money 
Dominie raised for him and went to N’ York. 
He tried his hand fust at one thing an’ then an- 
other, but failed in all ; an’ finally, some fashion, 
w^hen he ’d lived up all his money, he got to be 
private watchman for a big firm o’ rich men. 
He was so all-fired smart at that, an’ caught a 
passel o’ thieves so cunnin’, ’at his name got in 
the city papers. Then he got a place on the 
police, or constables, or whatever you call it. 
An’ he’s just riz an’ riz, constant. I ’low he 
must be gettin’ rich. He ’s always writin’ for 
me to come an’ see him, but I hain’t never been 
yet, though we ’ve kept up our writin’ occasional, 
ever since he ran away. But I certainly expect 
to see him back here, sometime, an’ I can wait 
till he comes. Valley boys always do get back 


324 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 

to their old home again, no matter how fur they 
wander. Noticed it, hain’t ye. Ma’am ? ’’ 

Yes. There is an old saying, you know, 
that ^ Those who are born in the Yalley must die 
in it. ’ ” 

Hmm. Well — to make a long story short, 
I kinder patterned after Galush’. I set out to 
investigate that there ^ Owl Club,’ an’ what 
meant all these terrible charges o’ stealin’ an’ so 
on. What you think ? that what the Deacon said 
was gamblin’ was jest the — lottery! Sim Bed- 
decker’s wicked foolishness o’ gettin’ rich to 
oncet.” 

The — lottery ? Interested in that — here 

in our Valley ? ” 

^^Yes, Ma’am, but Beddecker, he wa’n’t born 
here, thank the Lord ! ” 

Jacob ! ” 

Oh ! I mean it, Ma’am. The Valley ain’t no 
snake hole, I ’low. It ’s a home for straight 
goin’ men an’ women. Well, Sim, he was once 
a sailor, an’ he done somethin’, I need n’t say 
what, — though I know, an’ he knowed I know — 
’at sent him out o’ town for a spell to hide him- 
self. He happened to light right here ; an’ he 
married a likely woman an’ might ha’ done well. 
But that there old Adam was in him, an’ even the 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 325 

revival did n’t take it out, complete, I fear. 
Anyway, he got the lottery fever. He used all 
his own earnin’s an’ his wife’s. Then he got 
scent o’ that ^Owl Club’. They was a passel o’ 
innercent boys, jest full o’ larks an’ carryin’s-on. 
Thought it was dretful smart to hook a few 
’tatoes or corn-ears to roast in the ashes on the 
sly. Got up little suppers, mostly out o’ Phil’s 
pocket money. Dressed themselves up like Injins 
an’ played they was — folks ! Sho ! it makes 
me laugh an’ wish I ’d been a shaver myself to 
been amongst ’em. Bless ’em!” 

In spite of her conviction that the famous 
Club ” was a far worse organization than Jacob 
admitted. Miss Sampson’s face lost a little of its 
gravity, while Helen’s broke into the most beam- 
ing smiles. 

Oh ! Auntie, I knew it 1 ” 

Well, Ma’am, soon ’s Sim got scent o’ this, as 
I said, he wormed himself into it. He used to 
bring the boys home iysters an’ trash in his 
stage, an’ they, naterally, invited him to supper. 
The rest come easy. He told ’em about the 
lottery, — how they could chip in their money 
an’ buy tickets all together ; hull tickets, or 
quarter ones, or ary sort they liked. They’d 
make about ten million per cent, he made ’em 


326 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

think — them babies, almost ! Lute Beans, he 
was goin’ to set himself up in a store. Jimmy 
Bolton, he was goin’ to give his mother a house 
an’ lot. But Phil ! sho ! he was the top o’ the 
heap in that, as always. He was a-goin’ to sur- 
prise his Aunt Seraphy by the present of enough 
money to build that there Hospital for Incurables 
’at she ’s always hankered to build right here in 
our healthy Valley. Sho ! it makes me laugh, 
an’ it — I swan, it makes me cry ! Them simple 
little fellers ! ” 

The child-lover wiped a tear from his eye and 
pretended he had killed a gnat that stung him ; 
but Helen threw her arms around his neck and 
hugged him tight. 

Oh ! you precious old Jake ! you don’t be- 
lieve any harm of Philip, do you ? Nor Dan ?” 

0 ’ nobody, child, save them ’at ’s proved 
themselves scamps.” 

Your story, Mr. Lane,” suggested Miss Samp- 
son, a trifle huskily. 

^^Yes, Ma’am. I’m too long winded, I know. 
Well, I spied round, an’ I found out, fust, that 
money o’ the Widow Brown’s. Well, that was 
straight enough, Sim’s own. She owed it to him 
for arrants he ’d done on his trips an’ things he ’d 
bought to her order; an’ everybody knows she’s 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 327 

as tight as the bark of a tree. He could n’t get a 
cent out of her, so he sent that boy to play ghost 
an’ scare her out o’ jest the sum she owed. Then 
that Dill’s drawer business. Dill, he owed that 
to Lute Beans for working in the garden an’ 
hayin’ time ; but he would never pay,’ cause them 
Beanses are that shiftless their store account 
ain’t never paid, an’ he kept that back to help a 
little. So Lute took it himself.” 

“ How about that barn-burning ? ” 

^‘Mike Walsh’s tipsy old father done that. 
He owns up to it. He ’d been drinkin’, an’ since 
Mike jined the teetotallers himself, he ’s been 
dretful hard on the old man. So old Anthony 
went to sleep a-smokin’ in that barn an’ come 
near losin’ his life.’’ 

But — that — three hundred dollars ? ” asked 
Helen, breathlessly, while a great pallor over- 
spread her aunt’s calm face. 

Jacob’s countenance fell. He stooped and 
lifted his letter, and, patting it softly, re- 
marked : — 

“ Galush’, he ’s writ here that he ’s got track 
o’ Sim an’ Renew. Old Anthony’s story was 
true about his cornin’ here to the old mill that 
afternoon afore the flood. It was jest about sun- 
down, an’ he heerd them two a-fixin’ up to clear 


328 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

out. Sim was a-goin’ anyway, an’ Renew had 
coaxed him to be took along too, so it seems. 
Sim was to go sailin’ ag’in an’ get Renew a job 
at it. They changed their clothes here. Renew 
put on his Sunday ones an’ Sim fixed up some 
disguise or other, ’cause he ’d heard they was to 
be revelations o’ some sort at the meetin’ that 
night, an’ he ’d begun to feel the Valley would n’t 
be a comfortable home for him afterwards. 
He ’d brought his two best horses, an’ Anthony 
says they rode off in fine style.” 

Why did n’t he tell it before ? ” 

Oh ! he thought they was drownded, all the 
same. Does yet for all I know. He believes the 
high water overtook ’em, horses an’ all. But — 
I did n’t. I knowed ‘ them was born to be hung 
would n’t never get drownded,’ an’ 1 wrote to 
Galush’ to keep his eyes open. He did. He ’s 
seen ’em. Sim ’s in N’ York yet, an’ Galush’ ’ll 
keep him there, long 's I want him to. Renew ’s 
gone to sea, an’ may he stay there till he Tarns 
some sense. He ’s a bad one, that critter is ; an’ 
if I ever get my hands on him I ’ll tan his jacket, 
as I ’ve a right to do, bein’s he ’s a sort o’ family 
connection. Connection, Ma’am, not relation. I 
hope you understand the difference.” 

Quite. But, Jacob, does not Daniel give you 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 329 

any information yet that will lead to the discov- 
ery of that missing money ? ” 

Helen knew how moved her aunt must be, even 
to mention this subject again to Mr. Lane ; at 
whose house Daniel had remained ever since the, 
stageman pulled him out from the ruins of the 
school horse-shed ; and where he had but slowly 
regained the health and strength he had so sud- 
denly lost. 

No, Ma'am. But — but — there ’ll be a — a 
transaction down to the schoolhouse, I under- 
stand, an’ he says he ’s got somethin’ to say then. 

I don’t like the looks o’ Danny, somehow. He 
don’t perk up as chipper as he ought.” 

Well, I am delighted with your news, good 
Jacob. I wish you would go straight to Mrs. 
Tewksbury and tell her of her son. No matter 
if, as you say, he has forbidden the disclosure, 
you ought. It will all come out anyway, will it 
not, — in connection with this affair ? ” 

No, Ma’am. I shall merely call him a friend 
o’ mine. He ’s a right to tell her in his own way 
an’ his own time, an’ I ’ll leave it to him to do it. 
Good-day, Ma’am, an’ little Nell. I hope the 
Doctor ’ll be out to the — the board meetin’ an’ 
transaction next week, without fail, — even if 
all the sick old women the hull length the canawl 
get the hypo to oncet.” 


330 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


He ’ll be there, I think ; ” answered Miss 
Sampson, bowing and turning away. 

It was not till they were back again at the 
foot of the old garden that either of them remem- 
bered the promised talk of Miss Sampson, for 
their minds had been too full of the exciting 
news which Jacob had imparted. As they 
passed through the old stile, however, Helen 
recalled her aunt’s words, and asked : — 

What was it. Aunt Delight, you wished to 
say to me ? ” 

The talk can wait ; or rather, I will leave 
that to your parents, who understand all that is 
in my mind. But I have a fancy I would like to 
put this into your own small hands, my girl, with 
the hope that it may give you every happiness, 
every benefit.” 

As she spoke the lady handed the girl a plain 
white envelope, and Helen opened it, wondering. 
But all it contained was a strip of paper, crisp 
and clean, bearing figures and words upon its 
face which were not intelligible to its recipient. 
That is, though she could read them readily they 
conveyed no meaning to her, till Miss Sampson 
smilingly explained : — 

It is a draft upon a New York bank to the 
amount of two thousand dollars.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 331 

But even this was no explanation to the 
amazed girl, who remained stupidly staring, first 
upon the paper, then into her relative’s eyes, till 
that good woman rather hastily betook herself 
out of the range of the perplexed and troubled 
glance. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A TALK IN THE NIGHT PASTURE. 

T T is amazing with what readiness so loving a 
i • heart has accepted the fact — yet un- 
proved — that our Philip did that wrong/’ was 
the first comment which Mrs. Adair made upon 
the strange gift her daughter had received. 

Circumstantial evidence is strong against the 
lad. Aunt Delight prides herself upon her mat- 
ter-of-fact temperament, and she forces herself 
to look at the case exactly as an outsider would. 
The worst feature is his running away. If only 
he had been wise enough to wait.’' 

^^But how could he wait, Papa, thinking be 
was believed a — thief? How could he bear it? 
Wouldn’t anybody run as fast and as far as he 
could? I’m sure I would.” 

You, too, are ‘ Sampson,’ little girl, remember; 
and the Sampson temper is not a patient one.” 

Well — tell me first — what does this money 
mean ? Why did she give it to me ? ’’ 




THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE 


333 


For your education. It is a sum she had 
laid aside toward Philip’s college expenses, if he 
ever made himself ready to go. She hoped he 
would be a great man in some walk in life, and 
her giving you this money is, also, proof that she 
has quite given him up.” 

1 won’t touch it ! ” 

“ Not now, surely, nor for a long time. Al- 
though none of the agents we have set upon the 
search have yet brought us any word or trace of 
our lost boy, we will never give over looking for 
him till something is learned. Meanwhile I am 
to explain your aunt’s will about this money. 
If, by and by, no trace of Philip shall be gained, 
and you still love learning for learning’s sake, 
you are to use your gift toward securing a liberal 
education, in the direction your talents most 
strongly suggest. You, the last of the Sampson 
race, though only a girl, must then do your best 
to bring honor to the old name. Yet I am, also, 
to make you understand that this money which 
was Philip’s, or to have been his, is now your 
own, absolutely.” 

Does that mean to do with as I please ?” 

She said so. If you did not desire the 
schooling.” 

Then,” eagerly, “ may I take three hundred 


334 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

dollars of it and give it to that dreadful old 
Deacon ? Right away ? Quick ? There would be 
time before night, especially if 1 might drive old 
Carey.” 

No. Oh ! no. That would never do. You 
would n’t acknowledge Philip’s dishonesty till it 
is proven, would you ? ” 

I ? I ! Never ! Not even if it were proved 
a dozen times over.” 

Paying this money that you do not owe 
would seem like such an acknowledgment, to 
Deacon Tewksbury.” 

Then he shall never touch a cent of it, never ! ” 
cried Helen, veering swiftly round. Here, Papa, 
please. Just take this dreadful piece of paper, 
which is money, you say, and put it where I ’ll 
never, never, never see it again ! ” 

Very well. I will safely dispose of it for the 
present. But it will still be in existence and 
yours to command, — subject to the contingencies 
afore-mentioned,” answered the father, assuming 
a semi-legal air to amuse his daughter. 

But she had had enough and to spare of money 
talk, and turning to her mother, said : — 

If you are willing, I ’ll go out in the stable 
and see the horses a little while. Mamma. Abra- 
ham says that old Speckle has a nest in the loft, 
and I ’ll hunt for that, too.” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 335 

Very well. Only go first to Aunt and thank 
her for her rich gift to you.” 

Indeed, down in Mrs. Adair’s secret heart was 
a wordless thanksgiving that this daughter, whom 
she, at least, thought so intelligent, should have 
a better chance than most women then had to 
give that intelligence its highest development. 
Helen paused on the threshold. 

Mamma, is it being truthful to thank for such 
a gift when I do not want it ? ” 

‘^Surely. Didn’t you thank Mrs. Walsh for 
the homely green and purple mittens she made 
for you ? ” 

But that was different. It was all she had. 
I liked them, too, though I hated them. I mean^ 
I always made myself wear them when I went 
past her house — oh ! you know. For I knew 
she ’d saved the yarn to make a hood for Kitty — 
as I often wish she ’d done.” 

Exactly. So you can call that paper a ^ green 
and purple ’ draft, and regard it as you do Mrs. 
Walsh’s offering. In each case it was her all — 
and had been intended for a different purpose.” 

Why — is Auntie Delight poor ? Has she no 
more money ? ” 

Of her • very own, little more, I fear. And 
she knew that brother Philip would never save 


336 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

much, though he seems a rich man and lives 
lavishly. All the more, for that reason, has she 
cherished this sum for Phil’s expenses. Now 
she gives it to you. Is it not worth a cordial 
acceptance ? ” 

Yes, Mamma. Poor Auntie ! 1 wonder which 
will be the harder, for me to thank her or for 
her to hear me do it ! Oh I is n’t life horrid ? 
Why cannot things go straight ? ” 

My child, from God’s point of view they 
always do.” 

Helen went away and found the housemistress 
so busy in the kitchen that she dared only walk 
to her aunt’s side and hold up her face for a kiss. 

The lady stooped and bestowed the expected 
caress ; and that was all the acknowledgment 
ever passed between those two, yet it amply satis- 
fied both. 

Once in the stable, Helen paused a moment, 
sadly, by the empty stall where Philip’s pony had 
stood. For horse, as well as master, had disap- 
peared on that night of the flood. Aunt Serapha 
had been startled out of a quiet nap by the appari- 
tion of her nephew, greatly excited, very angry 
and unhappy. He had implored her to believe 
in him always;” had assured her that he was only 

wild, not wicked ; ” that he had meant to give 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 337 

her a great and glorious surprise/' but it had 
come only to this ! ” 

He had kissed her and clung to her for a mo- 
ment, and then had bolted out of the room and 
the house, without a word to signify why or 
whither he went. 

A few minutes later, she had heard the clatter 
of horse's feet upon the driveway ; and that was 
the last of Philip, so far as any trace of him had 
yet been found. 

As Helen left the stall and passed on toward 
the hayloft she heard a lad's whistle. 

Such had not been heard there for weeks, and 
her feet now flew over the space to the night 
pasture, at the stable’s rear, whence the summons 
came. 

“ Philip ! " she cried. 

Not him. Just me." 

Oh, Dan — only you!" 

Only me." 

Why do — I mean, why don’t you come home 
again, boy ? Are n't you well yet ? " 

Yes. I 'm well. I can’t come no more." 

Why not ? ” severely. You should, all the 
more because now — there 's nobody at all." 

It was funny to see the small maiden correcting 
and frowning upon the big woodlander; only, 
22 


338 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

after all, come to notice it, he was not so big as 
he had been. His face was thin and white beneath 
its freckles, and his blue eyes had a look of sorrow 
in them it was not good to see. 

Yes, I s’pose I should. But I — can’t.’’ 

^^Pooh! You mean, ’cause Phil isn’t here. 
Well, isn’t it a deal harder for us, to whom he 
belonged, who loved him? ” 

He did n’t belong to me. But I love — him.” 
He rather emphasized the present tense, and Helen 
felt rebuked. 

Of course. You ’d ought to. Everybody did 
— does. There was nobody like our Phil.” 

No, Miss, nobody.” 

Oh, Dan, where do you think he is ? ” 

“ I don’t know. When I get free I ’ll go find 
him.” 

“ Free ? Are n’t you free now ? What do you 
mean? Surely, you’ve thrown aside your duty 
and promises to Papa and Aunt Delight mighty 
easy.” 

I had to. Miss ; I could n’t help it.” 

Dan Starbuck, have you lost your wits ? 
Why do you say ‘ Miss ’ to me after calling me 
‘ Helen ’ all winter ?^” 

The lad looked away over the fields and 
shuffled his big feet awkwardly. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLIIOUSE. 


339 


There ’s goin’ to be fresh trouble for the 
Dominie. I come — I came — hopin’ your folks 
could put a stop to it. They’re a-goin’ to turn 
him out ; on account o’ my — of our — Swidgey- 
corum ! They must n’t ! He warn’t to blame. 
They must n’t ! ” 

They sha’n’t ! ” 

They had n’t ought. Not account o’ me — 
an’ — ” 

Dan, don’t be silly. I know all about 
that dreadful lottery business, and — everything. 
Jake Lane ’s found it out and told — though you 
ought to know that, if you’re living with him. 
And everybody will forgive everybody all round, 
and everything will be just beautiful again ; 
only — my Phil!” 

With a sudden flood of tears the girl threw 
herself against Dan’s shoulder, just as she would 
have done against her cousin’s in like emotion. 
But unlike Philip, to whom all gracious acts were 
natural, Daniel neither put his arm around her 
nor tried in any way to sooth or laugh away her 
tears. 

He merely stood like a wooden youth, his arms 
limp by his side, his face blank of all expression, 
save in his eyes. These spoke volumes, and 
mutely petitioned that their owner might escape 


340 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

this miserable strait in which he found him- 
self. 

But Helen did not see this. Her grief was too 
genuine, and she would have leaned just as readily 
against a door casing, had such been most con- 
venient for support. However, she was a trifle 
surprised to find herself handed over to the 
tender mercies of a bale of hay and stood up 
against it like a disused pitchfork. 

She lifted her head, dried her eyes, and looked 
after the vanishing figure of the mountaineer, as 
his long legs leaped onward in retreat. Then 
she did the next natural thing, — laughed aloud 
till the old barn rang again. 

The laugh reached Dan at the pasture bars and 
arrested his progress. Startled by the change in 
Helen’s mood, he was presently afected by it, 
and facing about regarded her from his vantage 
ground with curiosity, not untouched by dismay. 

However, she seemed perfectly harmless again^ 
as she followed him over the short grass ; besides, 
he had not finished his errand with her. So 
with one hand on the top rail, read}^ to leap over 
if need be, the boy awaited her advance, and she 
reasvsured him, promptly : — 

Don’t be afraid, Dan ! I sha’n’t do it again. 
Was that all you came to see us about ? ” 


THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 341 

No. I ’ve took a notion — I thought — 
Shucks ! How my tongue gets in the way ! 
But I ’low, if you ’d get up somethin’ like this — a 
petition as I ’ve written out — an’ all the scholars 
that like the Dominie to sign it, an’ take it to the 
meeting, where there ’ll be other transactin’s, I 
’low, maybe, they wouldn’t turn him out, after 
all. An’ I — I — Swid gey corum ! what ails 
me ? But I want you to be there that night, 
special. More’n anybody in the Valley. You 
an’ Miss Sampson. Will you come ?” 

There had come something so profoundly mov- 
ing into the expression of the lad’s face that 
Helen’s eyes grew dim again, she knew not why. 
She had seen just such a look once, in the eyes of 
a noble dog as he lay dying, and gazing upon 
her, the child whose life he had saved at the cost 
of his own, done to his death by the horns of a 
bull which had aimed to kill her instead. 

Dan ! Dan ! Why do you look like that ? 
Are you ill, suffering? Is it because you loved 
Philip so well ? What is it ? ” 

The girl caught her schoolmate’s hands again, 
and this time the warm, sympathetic touch of 
her small fingers was help and sustenance to 
him. 

‘‘Yes, Helen, it is because I love Philip so well ; 


342 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

better than anything in this world. So you’ll 
be there, won’t you ? ” 

Yes, yes. We ’ll both come. I know Auntie 
will say so, though I don’t understand — one 
bit.” 

‘^Nevermind. You will. Only — come.” 

He leaped over the bars and walked swiftly 
away, but the perplexed girl long stood and 
pondered. 

I don’t understand it. Yet, how much like 
old Faithful Dan Starbuck looked that minute. 
I wonder — is he going to die too ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXT. 


ANOTHER NOTABLE MEETING. 

M ISS SAMPSON approved Daniel’s sugges- 
tion of the school children’s petition, 
and she interested herself to draw up a better 
form than his ignorance had made it possible 
for him to do. To this she affixed her own firm 
signature and had Helen’s written just below. 

With this important paper, and under the 
charge of Abraham and old Carey, the girl was 
sent about the Valley very quietly, to call at her 
schoolmates’ homes and explain the matter to 
their mothers. Not a matron among them but 
loved and honored the old master, and they 
readily consented to keeping the subject of the 
appeal a secret from the opposing party, headed 
by Deacon Tewksbury, until it could be intro- 
duced as a surprise ” at the coming meeting. 

But the good trustee had been at work as well 
as the young folks, and almost as quietly ; and 
he had gained a large constituency. For he was 
a man whom many feared, because of certain 


344 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

business transactions which had left them his debt- 
ors. Times were not always prosperous, even in 
that pleasant Valley, and the dead weight of the 
Deacon’s mortgages lay heavy on the land or 
chattels of many Yalleyites; so that they were 
obliged, they felt, to accede to his request to — 

Go an’ vote down them old obsolete ways o’ 
teachin’, an’ vote in new progress, new idees, an’ 
a decent disciplinarian. Discipline ! That ’s 
what we want, neighbors, in our school. Then 
we won’t have no such goin’s-on as has been 
here durin’ this past year.” 

But Miss Sampson heard of this counter labor 
to her own, and resolved not only to attend the 
meeting herself but to allow Helen to do so, with 
a delegation of the scholars. Only, she stipula- 
ted, the paper should be presented at the auspi- 
cious moment by Jacob Lane or some other 
notable citizen. 

Because you must never again make your- 
self as conspicuous in a public place as at that 
temperance lecture, my dear ; ” to which the girl 
most cordially responded. 

Never was an ordinary school meeting so well 
attended ; and the question upon every lip was : 

Which side will win, — the Deacon’s, or the 
Dominie’s ? ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 345 

Said one who would have sided with the mas- 
ter had he dared : — 

It ’s a pity^ though, that Davidson gave 
himself that day’s vacation again last week, — 
without any rhyme or reason, so far forth as I 
can see. I ’m feerd it ’ll work ag’in him.” 

How so ? Did n’t hear about it, ” com- 
mented the first speaker’s seat-mate. 

Did n’t ? Hey ? Oh ! I recollect. You 
hain’t got no youngsters to send. Well, it was 
this way. Thursday afternoon, when time for 
dismissin’ come, says the Dominie, says he : 
‘ To-morrow ’ll be a holiday. There won’t be no 
school, ’cause I’m bleeged to go to Polinquet on 
business,’ says he. Never so much as ^ by your 
leave,’ nor nothin’.” 

Well, the young folks didn’t object. I’ll 
warrant. Reckon that must ha’ been the Friday 
’at Jake Lane druv away with his grays an’ 
come back with that rickety old mule team, 
was n’t it ? ” 

Yes, the same.” 

Hmm. Thought Jake would ha’ parted with 
his own feet sooner ’n he would with them 
horses. He loved ’em like they was folks.” 

Sure. An’ I heerd a man say, ’at was by 
when Lane swopped ’em off, ’at he jest leaned 


346 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

his head ag’in the nigh one an’ about reg’lar 
cried. Only for a minute, though. Then he up 
an’ cracked his joke about how he’d always 
ambitioned to own a span o’ mules, an’ now 
he ’d got ’em. An’ he made out to the Dominie 
that them flap-eared critters was a mighty sight 
safer for the gineral public to ride behind than 
them frisky-legged grays had been.” 

They say the widow — I mean Mis’ Bed- 
decker — tried to sell him them old whites o’ 
Sim’s, but he answered her plaguey short, ’at 
he would n’t tetch to Sim nor his team ’nuther 
one ! ” 

Pshaw ! But — hold on. There comes the 
Doctor an’ Trustee Whittlesey, an’ — J erusalem ! 
If there ain’t Miss Sampson an’ the little girl 
an’ a half-dozen more youngsters. Down here 
to an evenin’, an’ a men’s meetin’. Sho ! It ’ll 
be a lively one, I guess. Somethin’ ’s up, sure.” 

Evidently he was right. Miss Sampson’s 
dignity had never seemed greater than when she 
moved down the narrow aisle to the rear seat, 
followed by Helen and her mates. Yet on the 
faces of all there was an alert watchfulness which 
let nothing escape. Was it quite by accident, 
either, that the opposing factions seated them- 
selves on opposite sides of the room ? — the 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 347 

Deacon’s adherents ranging themselves on the 
right of the platform where he sat in state, with 
his crutches beside him ; and the advocates of 
the Dominie’s cause on the left, with Jacob Lane 
as their leader. 

Indeed, the honest stageman had never seemed 
quite so much in evidence as he was that night. 
He fairly showered his radiant smiles upon 
everybody, most of all upon the men on the right ; 
and he even winked, facetiously, to Helen, who 
nodded '^nd smiled gayly back, significantly tap- 
/ping the folded paper she held in her hands. 

But though Jake beamed with equal cheerful- 
ness upon that other champion of the old mas- 
ter, Daniel Starbuck, this youth, sitting a little 
apart, did not respond at all. This so perplexed 
Jacob that he remonstrated with the boy, now 
his own charge and home-sharer. But the wood- 
lander shrank the more into himself and silence ; 
till, finally, really provoked, the driver ceased his 
effort and left the lad alone. 

Swidgeycorum ! I ’m glad he ^s gone. If he ’d 
pestered me much more with his ^ cheer up ’ talk 
— I’d ha’ told — I could n’t — nohow ! Lord 
help me ! They say He does them that trust. 
But — if they do what I’m a-goin’ to — delibe- 
rate an’ full intendin’ — Oh ! shucks ! 


348 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


This homely self-communion bore the burden 
of a heartbreak. 

There were those there present whose gaze 
was drawn again and again toward the boy’s 
awkward and dejected figure ; who never for- 
got the abject misery which his drooping head 
suggested. 

Yet why should he feel so badly, I wonder ! ” 
whispered Helen to her aunt. Everybody else, 
including Master, is all excited, but nobody ex- 
cept Dan looks so sad. As if he wanted to cry 
— yet was so unhappy he could n’t. I wish — 
May I go ask him to come and sit with us ? ” 

^^No; not now. They are opening the meet- 
ing. We will speak to him when it is over. 
Maybe he has heard bad news from his own 
home.” 

Deacon Tewksbury opened the session with 
pr^er, as usual. He then opened the case ; and 
though he referred in scathing terms to the in- 
delicacy of a man who would attend a function 
in which he was himself to be sat upon ” he 
waxed so forceful and eloquent that his own side 
was materially strengthened by defections from 
the other party. When he had exhausted all his 
arguments he abruptly ‘closed his speech and sat 
down, leaving the leaven to work. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 349 

For a few moments it did so, silently, insid- 
iously; while Doctor Adair, who was to follow 
on the Dominie’s behalf, considered how best to 
begin his counter argument. 

Miss Sampson was deep in a whispered con- 
versation with the stage driver, who had gone 
along the aisle to speak with her ; and as Helen 

— who had been duly impressed by the Deacon’s 
peroration — looked around over the faces in the 
room it was suddenly forced upon her conviction 
that the tide of feeling had gone strongly against 
the teacher. Everything else was forgotten, save 
the impulse to help; and waving her folded 
paper she bounded forward, calling : — 

Come, schoolmates! they must hear us, 
too 1 ” 

The lads and lassies followed as impulsively, 
and the little group closed about the astonished 
Dominie, who looked over his spectacles into pne 
excited young face and under them at another. 

Why, why, my dears I Why — what — my ^ 
children 1 ” 

Read it. Papa ! Read it out — quick ! every 
single name, and ask whose wishes shall win, 

— ours, the children who know and love our 
master, or theirs, who ha — ” 

A look from that master restrained the impet- 


350 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

uous word; and amid a profound silence the 
Doctor rose and read the simple petition. Add- 
ing no comment, still in this hush of listening, 
he sat down. 

Most of the men there present were fathers of 
the children whose names had been repeated ; 
many of them had learned their own letters at 
that old master’s knee. How could they, thus 
appealed to, steel their hearts against him ? 

Quick to perceive the new turn of affairs, the 
Deacon pulled himself up on his crutches. 

^^Hmm! Ahem! Hmm ! Well! In course, I 
hain’t the hull Valley, but I did n’t know as this 
was to be a sentimental gatherin’. No, sir. I 
come on business, an’ business I mean. Keep 
your antiquated old teacher if you like. I resign 
my office as trustee, an’ ’ll get out as soon as the 
law’ll let me. Furthermore, I announce here in 
public that I hain’t no malice in the matter. 
Fifteen years I ’ve been a-carryin’ the Dominie 
along, renewin’ his notes an’ mortgages, an’ he ’s 
had due notice o’ foreclosure. I ’m gettin’ an 
old man an’ I want my money. So I ain’t 
makin’ no bones o’ the statement : if so be you 
all elect to keep him in the school he ’ll merely 
have to find another house to live in. For I 
shall go for’ard with the foreclosure, an’ sence 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 351 

the money can’t be had. I’ll have to take the 
place an’ do the best I can to save myself.” 

Jake Lane’s laugh rang out over all their 
heads : — 

“ That ’s a good one, I say ! That is a good 
one. Ha, ha, ha ! So, Deacon, you want your 
money, do you ? Well, — here it is ! ” 

With funny nods and smiles, the stageman 
dramatically pulled from his pocket a roll of 
crisp bank-notes, tied about with a cotton string, 
and waved them aloft, much as Helen had waved 
her paper. 

What ? What ’s — all this — tomfoolery ? ” 
gasped the astonished chairman. 

Tomfoolery ? I wish I had all my pockets 
stuffed with jest such tomfoolery, right clean out 
o’ Polinquet bank. I’d buy up the hull Valley 
an’ portion it out amongst child ern an’ horses 
an’ — noble old pedagogues. You’re a-fore- 
closin’, be you ? Do you object, Mr. Deacon an’ 
Chairman, a statin’ to this assembled audience 
the amount, princerpul an’ interest, every dime, 
cent, an’ dollar, ’at you think the schoolmaster 
owes you ? ” 

It ’s none of their — ” 

Oh ! yes it is. Yes it is. It would n’t ha’ 
been if you had n’t fetched it here, this business. 


352 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


yourself, lugged it in, body an’ bones, what bad 
ought to ha’ been jest betwixt you two. Suits 
me fust-rate, though ; an’ seein ’s you’ve done it, 
an’ we’re all neighbors together, jest accommodate 
us with the figgers, will ye ? Or, if you ’ve for- 
got, I can myself.” 

The chairman collapsed into his chair, silent 
with rage. 

Jacob continued : — 

Fifteen hunderd an’ forty dollars an’ seventy- 
five cents. That ’s the reckonin’, fust an’ last, o’ 
the Dominie’s debt to the Deacon. Need n’t 
mention, I s’pose, that the fust on’t was raised to 
help out the creditor’s own son ; nor ’at never a 
poor feller, down on his luck, went to Davidson’s 
that did n’t go away richer, by so much as the 
master was poorer. Needn’t — ” 

Order ! Order ! ” cried the chairman, angrily. 

“ All right. Order it is. But witness, neigh- 
bors an’ friends, the Deacon ’s ^gettin’ an old man 
an’ wants his money.’ Then I ’low he shall have 
it, an’ here it is. Trustee Whittlesey, you hold 
the stakes an’ I ’ll count it out. Here you be : 
Thirty good fifty dollar bills — Uncle Sam’s 
money — with forty more dollars, an’ seventy-five 
cents in change. An’, by the way, I ’ll jest men- 
tion that ‘ Davidson’s ’ will always be ^ David- 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 353 

son’s ; ’ only, I ’m goin’ to live there with him, 
’stead o’ Mis’ Hapgood, who ’s goin’ to remove to 
her husband’s folks ; an’ all orders for Polinquet 
or Carthage can be left at the new stand ; mine 
now bein’ the one direct stage route betwixt them 
two places.” 

«« Why, Jacob ! Where — ” 

Hmm. That ’s my affair. Hush. The 
Deacon ain’t done yet. I swan he ’s got a grip ! ” 

The chairman had risen, however, merely to 
throw out his last plank, by adjourning the meet- 
ing, which he would move to reappoint under a 
different and more private aspect. He waved his 
hand majestically and remarked : — 

I move to adjourn — ” 

Hold on ! wait ! ” 

Something in the tone of those three words 
arrested every movement, while flashing glances 
followed Daniel Starbuck’s leap to the platform 
and noted his strange appearance there. Pale, 
almost, as the whitewashed wall behind him, his 
eyes glowing, his tall figure now erect and manly, 
he stood ; and when he spoke his voice was clear 
and vibrant — even triumphant. 

You — people — all — wait. This talk of 
^ thievin’ in high places,’ that the Deacon has had 
over more ’n once, must stop. There’s other 
23 


354 THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

money owin’ him, ’at he ’ll never forget. He ’s 
accused Philip Sampson of stealin’ — stealin’ that 
three hunderd dollars — an’ — HE ’S LIED every 
time he said it. I come here to-night, ’cause 
you ’d all be by to hear me, on purpose to tell you 
that — that — I — Dan Starbuck, the good-for- 
nothin’ wood-chopper, an’ not Philip Sampson, the 
gentleman, — I — am that thief . Now, sir, you 
can do with me what you think best.” 

Yet the air with which he turned toward Deacon 
Tewksbury would have befitted a princely rather 
than a plebeian birth. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


AS THE SUN WENT DOWN. 

W HEN the audience had somewhat recovered 
from the consternation into which Dan- 
iel’s confession had thrown it, Doctor Adair arose 
and again called the meeting to order. 

Then he silently indicated to Miss Sampson to 
withdraw, which she did immediately, taking 
with her the few women and children present ; 
hut it did not escape Daniel’s furtive glance that 
already the gentlewoman’s head had regained its 
old bearing, and that a happy light shone in her 
dark eyes. 

Seeing which, a flush crept into his own pale 
cheek, although his gaze was so instantly cast 
down again that only Helen had observed his 
fleeting glance. 

Now Helen was, or would be, “ a woman 
through and through.” Wherever she loved she 
trusted ; and she had long before learned to re- 
gard Daniel as one of her own folks.” Had he 


356 THE LITTLE BED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

not saved Phil’s life, and little Rob’s ? — done 
unnumbered brave and kindly acts, to which only 
a noble nature would have been impelled? 

Well, then, the lad’s astonishing confession 
made not one whit’s difference in her opinion of 
him. His words amazed, but did not impress her ; 
and as she passed by him on her way to the door 
she managed to seize his hand in both hers and 
to demand indignantly : — 

Whatever in the world should make you 
tell that falsehood, boy ? ” 

It had been satisfaction to the culprit to note 
the happiness in Miss Sampson’s eyes ; but a 
keener delight shot through his heart at Helen’s 
question. 

She does n’t believe it ! ” he thought, and 
could have shouted. But he neither returned 
her hand-clasp nor answered her ; and really 
hurt by his manner, she snatched her fingers 
away and hurried out among the others. 

Then a poll was made of the most responsible 
citizens remaining in the room, and all others 
having withdrawn, the adjourned meeting be- 
came a court of justice. 

Oh ! Auntie, do you believe it ? ” demanded 
Helen, as she climbed into the buggy to ride 
home beside Miss Sampson. 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 357 

^^Why should he say so, else, — if it were 
not true ? ’’ 

I don’t — know. Yet I don’t believe it. 
Dan Starbuck steal ! He never — never — no 
more than Phil. They could n’t, either of them j 
not possibly.” 

We really know very little of the boy, child. 
Only a few months’ acquaintance.” 

‘^Auntie! Well, but one can know some 
people in a single minute ! He never did it — 
never ! ” 

The girl’s persistence was annoying. To di- 
vert it, the lady asked of Abraham : — 

How do you suppose that Jacob Lane raised, 
that amount of money so soon ? He ’s always 
a little improvident, and generally in debt, 
is n’t he ? ” 

Yes’m. But he ’s got a big heart, Jake has. 
When he heerd tell o’ this here foreclosure busi- 
ness he went to Squire Muller, who ’s been a 
wantin’ to buy Jake’s little house an’ strip of 
land this long while, an’ offered to sell. Muller 
took him up so quick it made him dizzy ; an’ 
that ’s how he got the ’leven hunderd dollars. 
I suspicion that why he went an’ swopped off his 
fine-blooded horses for them flap-ear mules was 
to raise the rest on ’t. Must ha’ been like takin’ 


358 THE LITTLE EED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

wife an’ childern away from him — if he ’d had 
’em — to part with them grays.” 

The splendid fellow ! ” 

That ’s the true word, Ma’am. An’ I reckon 
he ’ll be just as happy. He ’ll have the old 
Dominie to fuss over, ’stead o’ them horses, 
bein’ s Mis’ Hapgood ’s movin’ away. Yes ’m. 
Jake ’s humbly as a hedge fence, an’ rough as a 
hetchel, but he ’s kinder noble, seems to me.” 

Yes, yes, indeed. He ’s proved it.” 

Auntie Delight, isn’t it queer how this same 
Valley could ^ raise ’ such a grand heart as Jacob’s 
and such a mean one as Deacon Tewksbury’s ? ” 

Helen ! Judge not.” 

But Abraham laughed aloud. 

She ’s right, Mistress. Like pisen vine an’ 
.green pease growin’ out the same garden patch.” 

Oh 1 I wonder — what they will do with 
Daniel.” 

They were soon to know. 

For once, from some better impulse in his 
own nature or from deference to his neighbors’ 
opinions, Deacon Tewksbury forebore to inflict 
the legal punishment he had a right, and when 
Doctor Adair returned to Sampson House he 
brought the information : — 

“ Deacon declines to imprison the boy, or even 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


359 


have him arrested. Daniel seems willing to do 
or bear anything required of him, and he and 
the man he has wronged have arranged the 
matter in this way : Daniel is to go to work 
for the Deacon, at eight dollars a month, and 
continue in this service until he has earned the 
full amount of the stolen money.” 

Why, nephew ! That will take more than 
three years ! ” 

“ Exactly. Hmm. But the Deacon is satisfied, 
for he knows that if Dan were sent to jail he 
could n’t pay the debt at all. The boy is a first- 
rate worker, and if any punishment is needed, he 
will suffer the worst possible one in continuing 
to live here in the Valley, yet known to all his 
neighbors as a self-convicted thief, working out 
his penance.” 

Poor lad ! poor lad ! I should think im- 
prisonment preferable.” 

Doubtless so would he.” 

He ’ll probably run away.” 

No. I think he ’ll expiate his sin to the 
bitter end. He ’ll be closely watched. Papers 
of a most binding nature are to be drawn up 
and signed to-morrow. No. Poor Dan ! I 
shall hate to meet him now, knowing what a 
bond-slave he has become I ” ^ 


360 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


doesn’t seem possible he could have done 
it. Why should he ? What has he done with 
the money ? ” 

There ’s the mystery. No amount of ques- 
tioning can elicit a word concerning it. took 
it, an’ not Phil Sampson,’ is the beginning and 
end of his declaration. Well, Aunt Delight, we 
all can rejoice that the cloud is so completely 
lifted from our own name and honor. We 
can thank God for that j and now — if we 
only knew where our own laddie sleeps this 
night ! ” 

Months passed, — months during which Daniel 
learned to bear his open degradation with a stolid 
composure that was perplexing to those about 
him. If he was sensitive to his position only 
those who knew him best suspected it. 

To the Deacon and his household the boy was 
a mystery. He toiled early and late, indoors 
and out. To old Mrs. Tewksbury he became as a 
second son ; and to his master a wholly trust- 
worthy servant, more and more to be consulted 
and relied upon as week followed week. He 
could never be induced to speak of the missing 
money, and he uttered no complaint at any hard- 
ship laid upon him. The only privilege he asked 
was an occasional extra length of candle ; and, 


THE LITTLE KED SCHOOLHOUSE. 361 

being allowed this in his garret chamber, he was 
known to study far into the night. 

But though he did not meet them often, his 
old schoolmates grew gradually to avoid him 
when chance threw them together. To them 
he was a — thief ; and though he had been the 
most reluctant to enter into their wild pranks 
in the old days, they now felt themselves too 
good for association with him. 

The lad bore this as he bore everything else — 
silently, manfully, showing no resentment. His 
tall figure stooped a little more and more, and 
his face was always pale and serious ; but there 
was yet something in his manner which seemed 
foreign to the bearing of a criminal, — as if his 
own soul still retained its self-respect. 

One twilight, returning from a distant field 
and a hard day’s toil, his tools over his shoulder, 
he heard his own name called, wildly, loudly, 
joyfully, — in the tone and the voice that he had 
not dared hope to hear again; that he had 
loved with all the strength of his noble, hungry 
heart, a voice which instantly transformed the 
world to him. 

Wheeling about he answered with a shout 
equally joyous : — 

‘‘FUlipr^ 


362 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 

Then he remembered, and again bowed him- 
self; and so stood waiting the onrush of that 
speeding figure, with its gleaming golden head, 
its dancing eyes, its flushed and beautiful face. 
Daniel ! Why — my Dan ! ’’ 

They say that boys never clasp and kiss. The 
lame little squirrel which Dan had sheltered in 
the breast of his blouse might then have told of 
one exception. 

Be that as it may; in a second’s time they 
were down upon the ground, side by side, as 
they had used to sit, in the old happy days, 
while over Philip’s laughing lips chased and 
hurried the words that could not be uttered fast 
enough. 

Oh ! Dan — Dan — Dan ! you noble, great, 
magnificent fellow ! Don’t you suppose I know, I 
understand ? You never took that money any 
more than I did. But rather than let folks 
blame me for it — and to save your ^ benefactress’ ’ 
pride, you pretended it vras you. Oh! lad, I 
never dreamed you loved me so 1 ” 

You — Miss Sampson — all your folks — ” 
Yes, yes, I know all that. But look at me 
— square — you blue-eyed martyr! You never 
took that money. You couldn’t. Because — 
See here ! ” 



‘“Daniel! Why — my Dan!’” 













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THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


363 


Philip thrust his hand in his pocket and pulled 
out — Deacon Tewksbury’s long lost wallet ! 

The same ; considerably soiled and worse for 
careless handling, yet plump and well filled still, 
and with the Deacon’s honest name distinct upon 
its lap. 

There it is, the whole miserable business. 
Come on ! I’m going to the old man this 
minute. Come ! ” 

They sprang to their feet and sped forward, 
while Phil’s story was swiftly told. 

ran away, angry — indignant. I meant 
never to come back. I went to New York, — I 
had some money, you know, — to a ship’s captain 
who was an old friend of my father’s. I told 
him the whole story and — well, he’d been a boy 
once. He agreed to take me on the voyage he 
was just about to make, and hand me over to my 
father, or help me to find him. 

Well, sir ! The queerest thing ! When I 
went aboard ship, there was — Kenew Hapgood ! 
shipped as a cabin boy ; and in a day or less, the 
sea-sickest, home-sickest, wretchedest chap you 
could imagine. But I was glad to see him, glad 
to see anybody from the Valley, ’cause I’d had 
time to cool down a little. I guess he was just 
as glad to see me. He owned up that he ’d run 


364 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


away, too, along with old Beddecker, who’d 
helped him get this berth. The Captain was once 
a Valley boy himself.’’ 

Was n’t it queer, — all of you together ?” 

Oh ! no. The world is n’t so very big, you 
know, ” responded the other, with an air so un- 
mistakably his own that Daniel laughed aloud — 
as he had not laughed since they two had parted, 
months before. 

Never mind ! Laugh ahead. I like it. Well, 
we did n’t have a good trip. Lots of sickness 
aboard, and Renew the worst of the crowd. First 
he knew he was down with a dreadful fever, and 
everybody thought he ’d die. I had n’t anything 
else to do, so I took care of him ; and one day, 
when he saw that the surgeon thought there 
was n’t much chance for him, he up and told me 
about that wallet. He ’d seen you lay it on the 
mantel-shelf over Dominie’s fireplace that night 
of the great snow, and while folks were too busy 
fussing over the half-frozen Deacon to notice it. 
So — he just took care of it — for the time. And 
— he ’s a queer dick ! Got a sort of crazy twist 
to his honesty, seems to me. He ’d heard he might 
sometime be the Deacon’s heir ; and he said he 
^ thouglit and thought over that money till he made 
himself believe he really had a right to it/ ” 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


365 


“ Swidgeycorum ! ” 

Oh ! Dan, how good that outlandish word 
does sound ! Well, I mighty quickly undeceived 
him, you bet ! You see, he ’d started olf before 
that meeting where they accused me of stealing 
it, and did n’t know it. But, I do believe, the 
little sneak was really grateful to me for nursing 
him ; for he gave it straight up to me — when I 
made him. He owned up to lots of mean little 
tricks, too. It was he, as I always suspected, 
took the nuts off Deacon’s wagon that time ; and 
put your shoes and stockings in the brook ; and 
— well, about all the petty, no-fun scrapes 
there were.” 

“ Shucks I I should think he ’d feel so mean 
he ’d — ache!' 

Not he. But say. Was n’t that fine of Nell 
and the school petition ? Do you know, I think 
she ’s ’most plucky enough to be a bo3^ And 
what do you think ? Aunt Delight’s had a letter 
from Father, and he ’s got some money he did n’t 
expect, and I ^m to get ready for college, forth- 
with.” 

Did n’t you go to see him ? ” 

No. After I got over my mad, I thought : 
^ What’s the use of stirring him up over this 
miserable business? Sampson blood ’s a good deal 


366 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


thicker ’n water, and he ’d be wretchedly unhappy 
over a family squabble.’ So I just came right 
straight back again with Captain, when he sailed 
home to New York.” 

I guess that was good sense. But how did 
you pay your way ? ” 

Oh ! I took Renew’s place and worked the 
cabin racket. And Captain wants to make a 
sailor of me, anyway. But not yet, if ever. 
Because Auntie full of Delight has given Nell 
two thousand dollars — that was to have been 
mine — and we ’re going to make you take that 
and go to college with me, too ! And now, Nell 
says, she ’ll study hard and learn something, of 
course, but she does n’t see any use of her worry- 
ing herself to keep up the family learning, since 
she has two brothers — that ’s you and me, Danny, 
boy — to do it for her. So she ’s always to be 
our home-maker, and everybody’s darling — and, 
oh ! Dan ! what a hero you are ! ” 

Poor Daniel ! Sorrow and contumely he had 
borne unmoved, but this sudden flood of sunshine 
unnerved him. At the very threshold of the 
house where he had suffered his disgrace he 
paused, trembling and shamefaced. 

I can’t, Phil. You go in an’ tell ’em.” 

Oh ! pshaw ! You must. Besides, they ’ll 


THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE. 


367 


never notice us. For when I came back, an hour 
ago, on Jake’s old mule-stage — he ’s got to have 
those horses back ! — the Tewksbury s’ son, who 
was supposed for so many years to be dead, came 
too. He had to, he said, to take care of Renew, 
who ’s a far-away kind of a cousin ; and they ’re 
all in there now together. I would have left it 
to Hapgood to restore the old wallet, but I dared 
not. He ’s such a slippery sneak, you know. 
Hark — 

Hello, Deacon ! Yes, I ’ve got back. And 
here ’s your pocket-book. Renew will explain. 
You can give him Dan’s unfinished job — to sort 
of tone up his moral calibre — which will be fair 
all round. ’Cause Dan’s going home to Sampson 
House, to live forever and ever and ever. 

Good-night. Come, boy, for Home ! But 
let ’s make it by the road runs past the Dominie’s 
door and the precious Little Red Schoolhouse.” 


THE END. 



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